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MR.  WEBSTER  AT  MARSHFIELD. 


PROFILE  SKETCH  OF  MR.  WEBSTER. 


THE  PRIVATE  LIFE 


OP 


DANIEL    WEBSTER 


BY  CHARLES  LANMAN. 


He  that  hath  the  vantage-ground  to  DO  GOOD,  is  an  HONEST  MAN.— Bacon. 


NEW    YORK: 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS,    PUBLISHERS, 

3  2  9    &    3H1     PKARL    STREET, 
FRANKLIN     SQUARE 

]  852. 


cb 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  one  thousand 
eight  hundred  and   fifty-two,  by 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Southern  District 
of  New  York. 


PRELIMINARY  NOTE, 


THE  writer  of  this  little  volume  was  attached 
to  its  distinguished  subject  by  the  official  tie  of 
private  secretary,  and  also  by  the  endearing  ties 
of  admiration  for  a  great  intellect,  and  the  strong 
est  attachment  to  a  most  noble  Heart  and  the 
best  of  Friends.  He  has  frequently  visited  Elms 
Farm  in  New  Hampshire,  and  Marshfield  in  Mas 
sachusetts,  as  the  friend  and  guest  of  their  distin 
guished  proprietor;  and  while  in  their  vicinity, 
it  was  natural  that  he  should  have  had  oppor 
tunities  of  gathering  from  the  older  inhabitants, 
and  other  authentic  sources,  many  incidents  of 
personal  history.  These  were,  for  the  most  part, 
repeated  to  him  for  his  own  gratification  ;  but,  now 
"  that  the  mold/'  in  the  statesman's  own  words, 
"  is  beginning  to  gather  upon  the  tomb"  of  Daniel 
Webster,  the  writer  has  deemed  it  his  duty  to  pre 
sent  them  to  the  public  for  their  edification  and 
pleasure.  His  fame  as  a  patriot,  a  jurist,  a  states 
man,  an  orator,  and  a  scholar,  is  coextensive  with 

238832 


PRELIMINARY     NOTE. 


the  civilized  world,  and  it  can  not  but  be  of  es 
sential  service  to  the  rising  generation,  and  agree 
able  to  all  admirers  of  intellectual  greatness,  to 
become  acquainted  with  some  of  the  facts  which 
tend  to  illustrate  the  every-  day  life  and  personal 
character  of  such  a  man.  In  the  following  pages 
a  regular  biography  has  by  no  means  been  attempt 
ed  ;  it  was  only  the  writer's  intention  to  narrate, 
in  a  simple  and  unpretending  manner,  a  collection 
of  authentic  personal  memorials,  which  may  tend 
to  embellish  the  extensive  biographies  of  Webster 
which  will  hereafter  be  added  to  our  national  lit 
erature. 

CHARLES  LANMAN. 

Washington,  November,  1852. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 
BIRTH  AND  BOYHOOD 9 

COLLEGE  DAYS 23 

EARLY  LEGAL  CAREER 35 

ELMS  FARM 48 

MARSHFIELD 69 

TRAITS  OF  PERSONAL  CHARACTER 83 

MISCELLANEOUS  MEMORIALS 110 

ILLNESS  AND  DEATH 171 

CONCLUDING  NOTE 185 

APPENDIX..  .  187 


PRIVATE  LIFE 

OF 

DAIIEL   WEBSTER. 


BIRTH  AND  BOYHOOD. 

WHEN  it  is  remembered  that  Daniel  Webster  was  con 
sidered  the  greatest  intellectual  character  of  his  country, 
it  is  a  striking  coincidence  that  he  should  have  been  born 
in  the  shadow,  as  it  were,  of  Mount  Washington,  and  that 
his  home  and  death-place  was  not  only  in  full  view  of  the 
landing-place  of  the  Pilgrim  fathers,  but  also  on  the  mar 
gin  of  the  Atlantic ;  as  if  Earth  would  commemorate  his 
birth,  History  his  deeds,  and  Ocean  claim  the  privilege  of 
floating  his  name  to  the  remotest  nations  of  the  earth. 

The  ancestors  of  Daniel  Webster  came  originally  from 
Scotland,  and  his  father,  grandfather,  and  great-grandfa 
ther  were  named  Ebenezer,  and  were  descendants  of 
Thomas  Webster,  who  was  one  of  the  earliest  settlers  of 
New  Hampshire.  His  father  was  a  person  of  large  and 
stalwart  form,  of  swarthy  complexion,  and  remarkable 
features.  He  was  born  and  spent  his  youth  upon  a  farm ; 
served  as  a  ranger  in  the  famous  company  of  Major  Robert 
Rogers,  and  as  a  captain  under  General  John  Stark,  dur- 

A2 


10  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

ing  the  Revolutionary  war  ;  was  for  several  years  a  mem 
ber  of  the  Legislature  of  New  Hampshire ;  and  died  while 
performing  with  honor  the  duties  of  judge  of  the  Court  of 
Common  Pleas.  He  was  not  only  a  man  of  superior  in 
tellect,  but  was  distinguished  for  his  strong  and  indomi 
table  will — a  characteristic  which  his  distinguished  son 
rightfully  inherited.  He  was  a  Federalist  in  politics  ;  and 
it  is  related  of  him  that  he  was  once  taken  suddenly  ill 
while  passing  through  a  village  which  was  noted  for  its 
Democracy,  and  that,  supposing  that  he  was  about  to  die, 
he  beseeched  his  physician  to  remove  him  as  soon  as  pos 
sible  out  of  the  place,  giving,  as  a  reason  for  his  great 
anxiety,  that  "  he  was  born  a  Federalist,  had  lived  a  Feder 
alist,  and  could  not  die  in  any  but  a  Federalist  town."  Mr. 
Webster's  mother  was  Abigail  Eastman,  a  lady  of  Welsh 
extraction,  and  of  superior  intellect.  She  was  the  second 
wife  of  her  husband,  and  the  mother  of  five  children — two 
boys,  Daniel  and  Ezekiel,  and  three  daughters. 

Daniel  Webster  was  born  on  the  18th  day  of  January, 
1782,  in  the  town  of  Salisbury,  Merrimack  county,  then 
Hillsborough,  New  Hampshire.  The  site  of  the  house  is 
two  and  a  half  miles  from  the  beautiful  Merrimack  River, 
and  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  that  where  his  father 
built  the  first  log-cabin  ever  seen  in  this  section  of  coun 
try,  and  at  a  time  when,  between  his  residence  and  the 
borders  of  Canada,  there  was  not  a  single  human  habita 
tion,  excepting  the  Indian's  wigwam.  The  house  in  ques 
tion  is  not  now  standing ;  but  the  engraving  which  orna 
ments  this  volume  is  from  a  drawing  correctly  represent 
ing  it,  as  it  appeared  only  a  few  years  ago,  and  is  the  only 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  11 

portrait  of  the  place  which  ever  received  the  approbation 
of  Mr.  Webster.*  It  was  a  good  specimen  of  the  more 
elegant  farm-houses  of  the  day,  one  story  high,  heavily 
timbered,  clapboarded,  with  rather  a  pointed  roof,  on.-  y*. 
chimney  in  the  centre,  one  front  door,  with  a  window  or. 
either  side,  three  windows  at  each  end,  four  rooms  on  th; 
ground  floor,  and  an  addition  in  the  rear  for  a  kitchen. 
It  fronted  the  south ;  a  picturesque  well-curb  and  sweep 
stood  near  the  eastern  extremity,  and  over  the  whole  a 
mammoth  elrn-tree  extended  its  huge  arms,  as  if  to  pro 
tect  the  spot  from  sacrilege.  In  the  rear,  on  a  hillside, 
was  a  spacious  barn,  and  a  partially  wooded  pasture  ;  the 
prospect  immediately  in  front  was  enlivened  by  a  rude 
bridge,  spanning  a  lovely  little  stream,  and  bounded  by  a 
lofty  hill,  upon  which  is  still  standing  the  church  where 
Mr.  Webster  was  baptized  ;  while  in  a  southwesterly  di 
rection  was  presented  a  full  view  of  the  noble  mountain 
called  Kearsage,  which  holds  the  same  rank  among  its 
brother  hills  that  Mr.  Webster  was  acknowledged  to  hold 
among  men.  The  house  was  the  centre  of  a  tract  of  one 
hundred  and  sixty  acres  of  land,  which  still  belongs  to  the 
Webster  family.  Though  the  birth-place  itself  has  disap 
peared,  the  waters  of  the  well  are  still  as  pure  and  spark 
ling,  and  the  leaves  of  the  elm  as  luxuriant,  as  when  they 
quenched  the  thirst  and  delighted  the  eyes  of  the  infant 
statesman,  some  seventy  years  ago,  and  in  their  perennial 
nature  are  emblematic  of  the  great  name  with  which  they 
are  associated.  And  it  was  to  this  spot,  and  especially  the 

*  The  very  good  wood-cuts  inserted  in  this  volume  were  executed  l»v 
Messrs,  Lossing  and  Barritt. 


12  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

log-cabin,  that  Mr.  Webster  alluded,  when,  in  a  speech  de 
livered  at  Saratoga  in  1840,  he  uttered  the  following  touch 
ing  words:  "I  make  to  it  an  annual  visit.  I  carry  my 
children  to  it,  to  teach  them  the  hardships  endured  by  the 
generations  which  have  gone  before  them.  I  love  to  dwell 
on  the  tender  recollections,  the  kindred  ties,  the  early  af 
fections,  and  the  touching  narratives  and  incidents,  which 
mingle  with  all  I  know  of  this  primitive  family  abode.  I 
weep  to  think  that  none  of  those  who  inhabited  it  are 
now  living ;  and  if  ever  I  am  ashamed  of  it,  or  if  I  ever 
fail  in  affectionate  veneration  for  him  who  reared  it,  and 
defended  it  against  savage  violence  and  destruction,  cher 
ished  all  the  domestic  virtues  beneath  its  roof,  and,  through 
the  fire  and  blood  of  a  seven  years'  Revolutionary  war, 
shrunk  from  no  danger,  no  toil,  no  sacrifice,  to  serve  his 
country,  and  to  raise  his  children  to  a  better  condition 
than  his  own,  may  my  name,  and  the  name  of  my  poster 
ity,  be  blotted  forever  from  the  memory  of  mankind." 

Mr.  Webster  was  first  taught  the  letters  of  the  alphabet 
by  his  mother,  and,  because  of  his  feebleness  when  a  child, 
was  ever  treated  by  her  with  partial  kindness.  From  her 
lips,  also,  were  first  received  the  vital  truths  of  the  Bible, 
and  the  first  copy  of  the  sacred  Volume  which  he  ever 
owned  was  presented  to  him  by  his  mother.  Another 
tribute,  and  a  most  exalted  one,  is  this  fact,  to  the  faith 
fulness  of  woman.  The  one  in  question  is  remembered, 
and  always  spoken  of  in  New  Hampshire,  as  a  woman  not 
only  of  superior  intellect,  but  of  the  warmest  affections, 
and  remarkably  beautiful.  She  lived  for  her  husband  and 
children,  never  thinking:  of  herself,  and  was  venerated  by 


DANIEL     WEBSTER. 

all  who  knew  her  ;  and  it  is  said  that,  when  her  son  Dan 
iel  had  attained  his  tenth  year,  she  prophesied  that  he 
would  become  eminent ;  and  when  she  died,  that  son  was 
indeed  a  member  of  Congress. 

The  first  school-house  into  which  Mr.  Webster  ever  en 
tered  was  built  of  logs,  and  not  a  vestige  of  it  now  re 
mains,  though  the  spot  is  marked  by  a  still  flourishing 
butternut- tree.  It  was  located  about  half  a  mile  from  his 
father's  house,  and,  as  he  only  attended  during  the  win 
ter,  it  was  pleasant  to  the  writer  to  stand  upon  this  now 
classic  ground,  and  imagine  the  boy  Daniel  tramping  on 
his  way  to  school,  carrying  in  one  hand  a  little  tin  pail 
with  his  dinner,  and  in  the  other  his  spelling-book.  The 
men  who  had  the  honor  of  first  teaching  in  a  public  man 
ner  this  favorite  of  fortune  were  Thomas  Chase  and  James 
Tappan.  The  latter  person  is  still  living,  at  an  advanced 
age,  in  Gloucester,  Massachusetts.  It  may  be  well  sup 
posed  that  this  veteran  schoolmaster  feels  a  deep  affection 
and  a  great  pride  in  his  famous  pupil.  In  1851,  he  ad 
dressed  a  letter  to  Mr.  Webster  about  the  times  of  old, 
which  drew  forth  the  following  letter,  containing  a  bank- 
bill  for  fifty  dollars,  more,  probably,  than  the  old  gentle 
man  ever  received  for  a  winter's  teaching  in  "  New  Salis 
bury." 

"Washington,  February  26th,  1851. 
"  MASTER  TAPPAN, 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  letter,  and  am  rejoiced  to  know 
that  you  are  among  the  living.  I  remember  you  perfect 
ly  well  as  a  teacher  of  my  infant  years.  I  suppose  my 
mother  must  have  taught  me  to  read  very  early,  as  I  have 


14  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

never  been  able  to  recollect  the  time  when  I  could  not 
read  the  Bible.  I  think  Master  Chase  was  my  earliest 
schoolmaster,  probably  when  I  was  three  or  four  years  old. 
Then  came  Master  Tappan.  You  boarded  at  our  house, 
and  sometimes,  I  think,  in  the  family  of  Mr.  Benjamin 
Sanborn,  our  neighbor,  the  lame  man.  Most  of  those 
whom  you  knew  in  *  New  Salisbury'  have  gone  to  their 
graves.  Mr.  John  Sanborn,  the  son  of  Benjamin,  is  yet- 
living,  and  is  about  your  age.  Mr.  John  Colby,  who  mar 
ried  my  eldest  sister,  Susannah,  is  also  living.  On  the 
'  North  Road'  is  Mr.  Benjamin  Pettingil.  I  think  of  none 
else  among  the  living  whom  you  would  probably  remem 
ber.  You  have,  indeed,  lived  a  checkered  life.  I  hope 
you  have  been  able  to  bear  prosperity  with  meekness,  and 
adversity  with  patience.  These  things  are  all  ordered  for 
us  far  better  than  we  could  order  them  for  ourselves.  We 
may  pray  for  our  daily  bread ;  we  may  pray  for  the  for 
giveness  of  sins ;  we  may  pray  to  be  kept  from  tempta 
tion,  and  that  the  kingdom  of  G-od  may  come,  in  us,  and 
in  all  men,  and  his  will  every  where  be  done.  Beyond 
this  we  hardly  know  for  what  good  to  supplicate  the  Di 
vine  mercy.  Our  heavenly  Father  knoweth  what  we  have 
need  of  better  than  we  know  ourselves,  and  we  are  sure 
that  his  eye  and  his  loving-kindness  are  upon  us  and 
around  us  every  moment. 

"  I  thank  you  again,  my  good  old  schoolmaster,  for  your 
kind  letter,  which  has  awakened  many  sleeping  recollec 
tions  ;  and,  with  all  good  wishes,  I  remain,  your  friend 
and  pupil,  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

"Mr.  JAMES  TAPPAN." 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  15 

In  the  month  of  July  last  a  correspondent  of  the  "  Bos 
ton  Transcript"  wrote  from  Gloucester  as  follows  :  "  Con 
siderable  interest  has  been  excited  here  by  the  intelligence 
of  the  threatened  difficulty  with  Gfreat  Britain,  in  conse 
quence  of  the  measures  that  have  been  taken  by  that 
government  to  exclude  our  fishermen  from  certain  valua 
ble  fishing-grounds  on  the  northeastern  coast.  Gloucester 
is  largely  interested  in  this  question.  Of  some  eighty 
thousand  barrels  of  mackerel  which  she  brings  in,  upward 
of  sixty  thousand  are  taken  from  grounds  from  which  they 
are  now  to  be  excluded.  Mr.  Webster  is  confidently  looked 
to  in  this  juncture  to  ward  off  this  threatened  calamity 
from  a  most  deserving  and  enterprising  class  of  our  fellow- 
citizens. 

"  The  mention  of  Mr.  Webster  reminds  me  that  I  met 
on  the  piazza  of  the  Pavilion  last  evening  the  venerable 
Mr.  Tappan,  now  a  resident  of  this  town,  and  who  was  one 
of  the  earliest  instructors  of  Daniel  Webster  and  his  broth 
er  Ezekiel.  Master  Tappan,  as  he  is  called,  is  now  in  his 
eighty-sixth  year,  somewhat  infirm,  but  with  his  intellect 
ual  faculties  bright  and  vivid,  especially  on  the  subject  of 
his  old  pupil,  whom  he  esteems  the  foremost  man  of  his 
times,  and  in  whose  fame  he  takes  a  justifiable  pride. 

"  '  Daniel  was  always  the  brightest  boy  in  the  school,' 
said  Master  "Tappan,  'and  Ezekiel  the  next;  but  Daniel 
was  much  quicker  at  his  studies  than  his  brother.  He 
would  learn  more  in  five  minutes  than  another  boy  in  five 
hours.  One  Saturday,  I  remember,  I  held  up  a  handsome 
new  jack-knife  to  the  scholars,  and  said,  the  boy  who  would 
commit  to  memory  the  greatest  number  of  verses  in  the 


16 


P  R  I  V  A  T  E     L  I  F  E 


Bible  by  Monday  morning  should  have  it.  Many  of  the 
boys  did  well ;  but  when  it  came  to  Daniel's  turn  to  re 
cite,  I  found  that  he  had  committed  so  much  that,  after 
hearing  him  repeat  some  sixty  or  seventy  verses,  I  was 
obliged  to  give  up,  he  telling  me  that  there  were  several 
chapters  yet  that  he  had  learned.  Daniel  got  that  jack- 
knife.  Ah !  sir,  he  was  remarkable  even  as  a  boy  ;  and  I 
told  his  father  he  would  do  God's  work  injustice  if  he  did 
not  send  both  Daniel  and  Ezekiel  to  college.  The  old 
man  said  he  couldn't  well  afford  it;  but  I  told  him  he 
must,  and  he  finally  did.  And  didn't  they  both  justify 
my  good  opinion  ?  Well,  gentlemen,  I  am  an  old  man, 
and  too  much  given  to  talk,  perhaps.  Well,  good-by! 
Beautiful  place  this  !  Beautiful  sea-view — and  the  air, 
how  soft  and  refreshing !  But  I  must  leave  it  all  soon, 
gentlemen.  I  have  been  suffering  from  the  asthma  for 
fifteen  years,  and  it  is  now  worse  than  ever.  God  is  call 
ing  us  all  home — some  sooner,  some  later — for  me  it  must 
needs  be  soon.  But,  good-by  !  Enjoy  yourselves  in  this 
delightful  air.  Good-by !' 

"  And  the  old  gentleman  tottered  away,  after  a  mono 
logue  almost  verbatim  such  as  I  have  recorded.  It  seems 
to  be  the  one  sunny  spot  in  his  old  age  to  talk  of  his  old 
pupil,  and  to  expatiate  on  his  greatness  as  a  statesman, 
as  an  orator,  and  as  a  lawyer.  Master  Tappan  alluded  to 
the  news  in  regard  to  the  threatened  difficulty  with  Great 
Britain  on  account  of  the  northeastern  fisheries,  but  con 
fidently  remarked,  '  Daniel  will  settle  it  all,  so  that  we 
shall  hold  our  own,  and  have  no  trouble.  They  couldn't 
at  all  at  Washington  without  Daniel.  The 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  17 

country  won't  get  into  a  scrape,  while  it  has  the  benefit 
of  his  pilotage,  be  sure  of  that.'  " 

The  above  was  read  to  Mr.  Webster,  and  in  less  than  an 
hour  afterward  the  original  of  the  following  letter,  which 
contained  a  remittance  of  twenty  dollars,  was  on  its  way 
to  gladden  the  heart  of  the  old  schoolmaster : 

"  Boston,  July  20th,  1852. 
"  MASTER  TAPPAN, 

"  I  learn  with  much  pleasure,  through  the  public  press, 
that  you  continue  to  enjoy  life,  with  mental  faculties 
bright  and  vivid,  although  you  have  arrived  at  a  very  ad 
vanced  age,  and  are  somewhat  infirm.  I  came  to-day 
from  the  very  spot  in  which  you  taught  me  ;*  and  to  me 
a  most  delightful  spot  it  is.  The  river  and  the  hills  are 
as  beautiful  as  ever,  but  the  graves  of  my  father  and 
mother,  and  brothers  and  sisters,  and  early  friends,  gave 
it  to  me  something  of  the  appearance  of  a  city  of  the  dead. 
But  let  me  not  repine.  You  have  lived  long,  and  my  life 
is  already  not  short,  and  we  have  both  much  to  be  thank 
ful  for.  Two  or  three  persons  are  yet  living,  who,  like 
myself,  were  brought  up  sub  tua  ferula.  They  remem 
ber  '  Master  Tappan.' 

"  And  now,  my  good  old  master,  receive  a  renewed 
tribute  of  affectionate  regard  from  your  grateful  pupil, 
with  his  wishes  and  prayers  for  your  happiness  in  all  that 
remains  to  you  in  this  life,  and  more  especially  for  your 
participation  hereafter  in  the  durable  riches  of  righteous 
ness.  DANIEL  WEBSTER." 
*  This  was  Mr.  Webster's  last  visit  to  his  birth-place. 


18  PRIVATE     LIFE     OP 

Near  the  site  of  the  house  where  Mr.  Webster  was  born, 
and  in  the  bed  of  a  little  brook,  are  the  remains  of  an  old 
mill,  which  once  stood  in  a  dark  glen,  and  was  there  sur 
rounded  with  a  majestic  forest  which  covered  the  neigh 
boring  hills.  The  mill  was  a  source  of  income  to  his 
father,  and  he  kept  it  in  operation  till  near  the  close  of 
his  life.  To  that  mill,  Daniel,  though  a  small  boy,  went 
daily,  when  not  in  school,  to  assist  his  father  in  sawing 
boards.  He  was  apt  in  learning  any  thing  useful,  and 
soon  became  so  expert  in  doing  every  thing  required,  that 
his  services  as  an  assistant  were  valuable.  And  often 
times,  after  setting  the  saw  and  hoisting  the  gate,  and 
while  the  saw  was  passing  through  the  log,  which  occu 
pied  some  ten  minutes  for  each  board,  he  was  usually 
seen  reading  attentively  the  books  in  the  way  of  biogra 
phy  and  history,  which  he  was  permitted  to  take  from  the 
house. 

There,  in  that  old  saw-mill,  surrounded  by  forests,  in 
the  midst  of  the  noise  which  such  a  mill  made,  and  this, 
too,  without  neglecting  his  task,  he  made  himself  familiar 
with  the  most  remarkable  events  recorded  by  the  pen  of 
history,  and  with  the  lives  and  characters  of  the  most  cel 
ebrated  persons  of  antiquity.  What  he  read  there  has 
never  been  forgotten.  So  tenacious  was  his  memory,  that 
he  has  been  able,  within  the  last  few  years,  to  recite  long 
narratives  out  of  the  old  books  upon  which  he  then  feasted, 
and  which  he  had  not  subsequently  perused.  The  soli 
tude  of  the  scene,  the  absence  of  every  .thing  to  divert  his 
attention,  the  simplicity  of  his  occupation,  the  taciturn 
and  thoughtful  manner  of  his  father,  all  favored  the  pro- 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  19 

cess  of  transplanting  every  great  idea  found  in  those  books 
to  his  own  fresh,  fruitful,  and  vigorous  mind.  Few  other 
scenes  of  his  boyhood  are  as  interesting  as  the  site  of  this 
old  mill. 

At  this  period  of  his  life  it  was,  too,  that  his  eyes  first 
fell  upon  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  of  which  he 
subsequently  became  the  chief  expounder  and  defender. 
And  what  is  truly  remarkable,  is  the  fact  that  this  par 
ticular  copy  was  printed  upon  an  imported  cotton  pocket 
handkerchief,  according  to  a  fashion  of  the  time,  which 
he  chanced  to  stumble  upon  in  a  country  store,  and  for 
which  he  paid,  out  of  his  own  pocket,  all  the  money  he 
had,  twenty-five  cents.  The  evening  of  the  day  on  which 
he  obtained  the  document  was  wholly  devoted  to  its  close 
and  attentive  perusal,  while  seated  before  the  fire,  and  by 
the  side  of  his  father  and  mother.  What  dreamer,  on  that 
night,  in  the  wildest  flights  of  his  imagination,  could  have 
seen  the  result  of  that  accident,  or  marked  out  the  future 
career  of  that  New  Hampshire  boy  ? 

But  with  all  this  earnestness  of  character,  there  was 
closely  connected  a  frolicsome  disposition,  which,  for  its 
smartness  as  well  as  harmlessness,  it  is  pleasant  to  con 
template.  Of  the  many  anecdotes  which  tend  to  illustrate 
his  love  of  fun,  the  following  are  worth  mentioning  : 
/Daniel  and  his  brother  Ezekiel,  when  boys,  were  really 
devoted  to  the  pursuits  of  agriculture,  but  the  following 
story  is  current  in  the  vicinity  of  their  birth-place.  Their 
father  had  given  them  directions  to  perform  a  specific 
labor  during  his  temporary  absence  from  home,  but  on  his 
return  at  night,  he  found  the  labor  unperformed,  and,  with 


20  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

a  frown  upon  his  face,  questioned  the  boys  in  regard  to 
their  idleness.  "What  have  you  been  doing,  Ezekiel?" 
said  the  father.  "Nothing,  sir,"  was  the  reply.  "Well, 
Daniel,  what  have  you  been  doing?"  "Helping  Zeke, 


-On  another  occasion,  Daniel  was  put  to  mowing.  He 
made  bad  work  of  it.  His  scythe  was  sometimes  in  the 
ground,  and  sometimes  over  the  tops  of  all  the  grass.  He 
complained  to  his  father  that  his  scythe  was  not  hung 
right.  Various  attempts  were  made  to  hang  it  better,  but 
with  no  success.  His  father  told  him,  at  length,  he  might 
hang  it  to  suit  himself  ;  and  he  therefore  hung  it  upon  a 
tree,  and  said,  "  There,  that's  just  right."  His  father 
laughed,  and  told  him  to  let  it  hang  there. 

When  Daniel  and  Ezekiel  were  boys  together,  they  had 
frequent  literary  disputes,  and  on  one  occasion,  after  they 
had  retired  to  bed,  they  entered  into  a  squabble  about  a 
certain  passage  in  one  of  their  school-books,  and  having 
risen  to  examine  some  of  the  authorities  in  their  posses 
sion,  they  set  their  bed-clothes  on  fire  and  nearly  burned 
up  their  father's  dwelling.  On  being  questioned  the  next 
morning  in  regard  to  the  accident,  Daniel  remarked,  "  That 
they  were  in  pursuit  of  light,  but  got  more  than  they 
wanted" 

The  father  of  these  brothers  used  to  speak  of  them  with 
great  kindness,  but  dwelt  principally  upon  the  qualifica 
tions  of  Ezekiel  ;  and  when  questioned  by  a  friend  as  to 
his  reasons  for  so  doing,  he  replied,  "  Ezekiel  is  a  bashful 
boy,  who  needs  a  word  to  be  said  of  him  ;  but  Daniel,  I 
warrant  you,  will  take  care  of  himself." 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  21 

The  father  was  very  strict  in  all  religious  observances, 
and  required,  among  other  things,  that  his  sons  should  go 
every  Sunday  to  church,  though  the  distance  was  about 
four  miles.  Daniel  complained  of  the  hardship,  for  he 
must  needs  walk  all  the  way.  His  father  said  to  him, 

"  I  see  Deacon  True's  boys  there  every  Sunday  regu 
larly,  and  have  never  heard  of  their  complaining." 

"Ah!  yes,"  replied  Daniel;  "the  deacon's  boys  live 
half  the  way  there,  and  of  course  have  only  half  as  far  to 
walk." 

"  Well,"  said  his  father,  "  you  may  get  up  in  the  morn 
ing,  dress  yourself,  and  run  up  to  Deacon  True's,  and  go 
with  them  ;  then  you  will  have  no  further  to  walk  than 
they  do." 

The  logic  of  his  father  was  conclusive,  for  he  never  con 
sidered  it  a  hardship  to  run  up  to  Deacon  True's  to  play 
with  the  boys,  and  that  the  hardship,  if  any,  lay  beyond 
the  deacon's  residence.  On  every  future  pleasant  Sab 
bath,  therefore,  Daniel  was  found  at  church,  notwithstand 
ing  the  distance. 

And  now  we  have  an  anecdote  to  record,  going  to  show 
tne  existence  of  an  innate  eloquence.  When  he  was  about 
seven  years  of  age,  his  father  kept  a  house  of  public  enter 
tainment,  where  the  teamsters,  who  traveled  on  the  road, 
were  in  the  habit  of  obtaining  a  dinner,  and  feeding  their 
horses  ;  and  it  is  said  that  the  incipient  orator  and  states 
man  frequently  entertained  his  father's  guests  by  reading 
aloud  some  of  the  Psalms  of  David,  to  the  great  delight 
of  his  rustic  listeners.  Indeed,  it  was  customary  for  the 
teamsters  to  remark,  as  they  pulled  up  their  horses  before 


22  PRIVATE     LIFE     OP 

the  Webster  tavern,  "  Come,  let's  go  in  and  hear  a  Psalm 
from  Dan  Webster!  "  Even  at  that  time,  his  voice  was 
deep,  rich,  and  musical.  The  identical  dwelling  alluded 
to  above  is  still  standing,  and  it  was  only  a  few  months 
ago,  when  Mr.  Webster,  bending  under  the  weight  of  years 
and  a  painful  illness,  sat  with  the  writer  upon  its  little 
porch,  and  descanted  with  streaming  eyes  upon  the  vari 
ous  events  associated  with  his  "  boyhood's  home." 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  23 


COLLEGE  DAYS. 

MR.  WEBSTER'S  advantages  of  early  education  were  ex 
ceedingly  slender,  for  he  worked  on  the  farm  in  summer, 
and  went  to  school  only  in  the  winter.  The  principal  dis 
trict  school  that  he  attended  was  three  miles  from  his  fa 
ther's  residence,  and  his  pathway  thither  was  often  through 
deep  snows.  "When  fourteen  years  old,  he  spent  a  few 
months  at  Phillips'  Academy,  Exeter,  enjoying  the  tuition 
and  kindly  counsels  of  Dr.  Benjamin  Abbot.  He  master 
ed  the  principles  and  philosophy  of  the  English  grammar 
in  less  than  four  months,  when  he  immediately  commenced 
the  study  of  the  Latin  language,  and  his  first  lessons  there 
in  were  recited  to  the  late  Joseph  Stevens  Buckminster, 
who  was  at  that  time  a  tutor  in  the  academy.  Here  he^ 
was  first  called  upon  to  "  speak  in  public  on  the  stage," 
and  the  effort  was  a  failure  ;  for  the  moment  he  began  he 
became  embarrassed,  and  burst  into  tears.  He  could  re 
peat  psalms  to  a  few  teamsters  at  the  age  of  seven,  but 
could  not  address  an  assembly  when  twice  that  age.  His 
antipathy  to  public  declamation  was  insurmountable  ;  and 
in  bearing  testimony  to  this  fact,  he  once  uttered  the  fol 
lowing  words:  "I  believe  I  made  tolerable  progress  in 
most  branches  which  I  attended  to  while  in  this  school, 
but  there  was  one  thing  I  could  not  do — T  could  not  make 


24  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

a  declamation  ;  I  could  not  speak  before  the  school.  The 
kind  and  excellent  Buckminster  sought  especially  to  per 
suade  me  to  perform  the  exercise  of  declamation,  like  other 
boys,  but  I  could  not  do  it.  Many  a  piece  did  I  commit 
to  memory,  and  recite  and  rehearse  in  my  own  room,  over 
and  over  again  ;  yet,  when  the  day  came  when  the  school 
collected  to  hear  the  declamations,  when  my  name  was 
called,  and  I  saw  all  eyes  turned  to  my  seat,  I  could  not 
raise  myself  from  it.  Sometimes  the  instructors  frowned  ; 
sometimes  they  smiled.  Mr.  Buckminster  always  pressed 
and  entreated,  most  winningly,  that  I  would  venture,  ven 
ture  only  once.  But  I  never  could  command  sufficient 
resolution." 

A  few  days  after  Mr.  Webster  had  entered  Exeter  acad 
emy,  he  returned  to  his  boarding-house  one  evening  in  a 
very  desponding  mood,  and  told  his  friends  there  that  the 
city  boys  in  the  academy  were  constantly  laughing  at  him, 
because  he  was  at  the  foot  of  his  class,  and  had  come  from 
the  back- woods.  His  friends  endeavored  to  cheer  him  by 
explaining  the  regulations  of  the  school,  and  telling  him 
that  the  boys  would  soon  get  tired  of  their  unhandsome 
conduct,  and  that  he  ought  to  show  himself  above  their 
foolishness.  Mr.  Nicholas  Emerey,  who  was  then  an  as 
sistant  tutor  in  the  academy,  was  also  made  acquainted 
with  young  Webster's  troubles,  and,  as  he  had  the  man 
agement  of  the  second  or  lower  class,  he  treated  his  de 
sponding  pupil  with  marked  kindness,  and  particularly 
urged  upon  him  to  think  of  nothing  but  his  books,  and 
that  all  would  yet  come  out  bright.  This  advice  was 
heeded  ;  and  at  the  end  of  the  first  quarter  Mr.  Emerey 


DANIEL    WEBSTER.  25 

mustered  his  class  in  a  line,  and  formally  took  the  arm 
of  young  Webster,  and  marched  him  from  the  foot  to  the 
extreme  head  of  the  class,  exclaiming,  in  the  mean  while, 
that  this  was  his  proper  position.  Such  an  event  had  for 
many  days  been  anticipated,  but  when  actually  accom 
plished  the  remainder  of  the  class  were  surprised  and 
chagrined. 

This  triumph  greatly  encouraged  the  boy  Daniel,  and  he 
renewed  his  efforts  with  his  books.  He  did  not  doubt  but 
that  there  were  many  boys  in  the  class  as  smart  as  him 
self,  if  not  smarter ;  and  he  looked  with  some  anxiety  to 
the  summing  up  of  the  second  quarter.  The  day  arrived, 
the  class  was  mustered,  and  Mr.  Emerey  stood  before  it, 
when  the  breathless  silence  was  broken  by  these  words  : 
"  Daniel  Webster,  gather  up  your  books  and  take  down 
your  cap." 

The  boy  obeyed,  and,  thinking  that  he  was  about  to  be 
expelled  from  school,  was  sorely  troubled  about  the  cause 
of  the  calamity.  The  teacher  saw  this,  but/soon  dispelled 
the  illusion,  for  he  continued  :  "  Now,  sir,  you-  will  please 
report  yourself  to  the  teacher  of  the  first  class  ;  and  you, 
young  gentlemen,  will  take  an  affectionate  leave  of  your 
class-mate,  for  you  will  never  see  him  again}'1  That 
teacher  is  still  living,  is  a  man  of  distinction,  and  has  ever 
been  a  warm  friend  of  his  fortunate  pupil. 

In  his  fifteenth  year  he  was  privileged  to  spend  some 
months  with  one  of  the  more  prominent  clergymen  of  the 
day,  the  Rev.  Samuel  Woods,  who  lived  at  Boscawen,  and 
prepared  boys  for  college  at  one  dollar  a  week,  for  tuition 
and  board.  During  his  stay  with  Dr.  Woods,  he  was  ap- 

B 


26  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

parently  very  neglectful  of  his  academic  duties,  but  never 
failed  to  perform  all  his  intellectual  tasks  with  great  credit. 
On  one  occasion  the  reverend  tutor  thought  proper  to  give 
his  scholar  Daniel  a  scolding  for  spending  too  much  of  his 
time  upon  the  hills  and  along  the  streams,  hunting  and 
fishing,  but  still  complimented  him  for  his  smartness. 
The  task  assigned  to  him  for  his  next  recitation  was  one 
hundred  lines  of  Virgil ;  and  as  he  knew  that  his  master 
had  an  engagement  on  the  following  morning,  an  idea  oc 
curred  to  him,  and  he  spent  the  entire  night  poring  over 
his  books.  The  recitation  hour  finally  arrived,  and  the 
scholar  acquitted  himself  of  his  hundred  lines  and  received 
the  tutor's  approbation.  "  But  I  have  a  few  more  lines 
that  I  can  recite,"  said  the  boy  Daniel.  "  Well,  let  us 
have  them,"  replied  the  doctor ;  and  forthwith  the  boy 
reeled  off  another  hundred  lines.  u  Very  remarkable," 
said  the  doctor;  "  you  are  indeed  a  smart  boy."  "  But  I 
have  another,"  said  the  scholar,  "  and  five  hundred  of 
them,  if  you  please."  The  doctor  was,  of  course,  aston 
ished,  but,  as  he  bethought  him  of  his  engagement,  he 
begged  to  be  excused,  and  added,  "  You  may  have  the 
whole  day,  Dan,  for  pigeon  shooting." 

It  was  while  on  their  way  to  Mr.  Woods,  by-the-way, 
that  Mr.  Webster's  father  for  the  first  time  opened  to  him 
the  design  of  sending  him  to  college.  The  advantages  of 
such  an  education  were  a  privilege  to  which  he  had  never 
aspired  in  his  most  ambitious  moments.  "  I  remember," 
he  once  said,  "the  very  hill  which  we  were  ascending, 
through  deep  snows,  in  a  New  England  sleigh,  when  my 
father  made  known  this  promise  to  me.  I  could  not  speak. 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  27 

How  could  he,  I  thought,  with  so  large  a  family,  and  in 
such  narrow  circumstances,  think  of  incurring  so  great  an 
expense  for  me.  A  warm  glow  ran  all  over  me,  and  I 
laid  my  head  on  my  father's  shoulder  and  wept." 

"When  Mr.  Webster  was  a  pupil  of  Dr.  Woods,  his  father 
wrote  him  a  letter,  requesting  that  he  would  come  to  Elm's 
Farm  to  assist  him  in  haying  for  a  few  days.  He  packed 
up  his  bundle  of  clothes  and  obeyed  orders.  On  the  morn 
ing  after  his  arrival  home,  the  boy  went  to  work  in  the 
field,  while  the  father  visited  a  neighboring  town  on  busi 
ness.  About  eleven  o'clock  the  boy  came  to  his  mother 
and  told  her  he  was  very  tired,  that  his  hands  were  blis 
tered,  and  that  he  could  not  work  any  longer.  The  kind 
mother  excused  her  son,  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  all 
was  well.  About  an  hour  after  dinner,  however,  young 
Daniel  had  tackled  up  the  family  horse,  placed  two  of  his 
sisters  in  a  wagon,  and  taken  his  departure  for  a  famous 
whortleberry  hill,  where  he  spent  the  rest  of  the  day 
scampering  over  the  rocks  like  a  young  deer.  His  father 
returned  at  night,  and  having  questioned  Daniel  and  his 
mother  about  the  amount  of  work  he  had  performed,  and 
heard  the  particulars,  he  laughed,  and  sent  him  to  bed. 
The  next  morning,  after  breakfast,  the  father  handed  his 
hopeful  son  his  bundle  of  clothes,  and,  with  a  smiling 
countenance,  significantly  pointed  toward  Boscawen,  and 
the  boy  disappeared.  As  he  left  the  house  a  neighbor  saw 
him,  and  laughed. 

"Where  are  you  going,  Dan?"  said  he. 

"  Back  to  school,"  replied  Daniel. 

"  I  thought  it  would  be  so,"  added  the  neighbor,  and 


28  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

uttered  another  quiet  laugh ;  and  back  to  the  academic 
shades  returned  the  incipient  statesman. 

The  neighbor  alluded  to  above  was  Thomas  "W.  Thomp 
son,  who  subsequently  became  a  representative  in  Con 
gress,  and  who,  from  the  beginning,  conceived  a  high  idea 
of  Mr.  Webster's  future  eminence. 

As  has  already  been  intimated,  he  was  only  a  few  months 
in  preparing  himself  for  college,  and  during  that  brief  pe 
riod  he  commenced  and  mastered  the  study  of  Greek,  so 
that  his  tutor  was  wont  to  remark  that  other  boys  required 
an  entire  year  to  accomplish  the  same  end.  Of  all  his 
father's  children  Daniel  Webster  was,  as  a  boy,  the  sick 
liest  and  most  slender  ;  and  one  of  his  half-brothers,  who 
was  somewhat  of  a  wag,  frequently  took  pleasure  in  re 
marking  that  "  Dan  was  sent  to  school  because  he  was 
not  fit  for  any  thing  else,  and  that  he  might  know  as  much 
as  the  other  boys."  Even  from  his  earliest  boyhood  he 
was  an  industrious  reader  of  standard  authors,  and  previ 
ous  to  his  entering  college  his  favorite  books  were  Addi- 
son's  Spectator,  Butler's  Hudibras,  Pope's  translation  of 
Homer,  and  the  Essay  on  Man,  the  last  of  which  he  com 
mitted  to  memory ;  and  though  he  has  never  looked  it 
through  since  his  fifteenth  year,  he  is  at  the  present  time 
able  to  recite  most  of  it  from  beginning  to  end.  He  was 
particularly  fond,  too,  of  the  Bible,  of  Shakspeare,  and  of 
devotional  poetry,  and  simply  as  a  pleasure  he  committed 
to  memory  many  of  the  Psalms  and  Hymns  of  Dr.  Watts. 
An  English  translation  of  Don  Quixote  was  another  of  his 
favorite  books,  the  power  of  which  over  his  imagination 
he  has  described  as  having  been  very  great.  He  studied 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  29 

with  interest  both  Cicero  and  Virgil,  but  he  was  particu 
larly  partial  to  Cicero.  As  he  advanced  in  years,  he  add 
ed  Sallust,  Caesar,  Horace,  and  Demosthenes  to  the  list 
of  classic  authors  which  he  made  it  his  business,  as  it  was 
his  pleasure,  to  master ;  hence  it  is  not  surprising  that 
the  productions  of  his  own  mind  should  be  distinguished 
for  their  refined  and  classic  elegance. 


Mr.  Webster  went  through  college  in  a  manner  that  was 
highly  creditable  to  himself  and  gratifying  to  his  friends. 
He  graduated  at  Dartmouth  in  1801,  and  though  it  was 
universally  believed  that  he  ought  to  have  received,  and 
would  receive  the  valedictory,  that  honor  was  not  confer 
red  upon  him,  but  upon  one  whose  name  has  since  passed 
into  forgetfulness.  The  ill-judging  faculty  of  the  college, 
however,  bestowed  upon  him  a  diploma,  but  instead  of 
pleasing,  this  commonplace  compliment  only  disgusted 
him,  and  at  the  conclusion  of  the  commencement  exer 
cises  the  disappointed  youth  asked  a  number  of  his  class 
mates  to  accompany  him  to  the  green  behind  the  college,  j 
where,  in  their  presence,  he  deliberately  tore  up  his  hon-/ 
orary  document,  and  threw  it  to  the  winds,  exclaiming) 
"  My  industry  may  make  me  a  great  man,  but  this  mis-\ 
erable  parchment  can  not !"  and  immediately  mounting 
his  horse,  departed  for  home. 

"While  at  college  he  was  faithful  to  all  his  regular  du 
ties,  but  devoted  much  of  his  time  to  general  reading,  es 
pecially  English  literature  and  history.  He  took  part  in 
a  weekly  newspaper  by  contributing  to  it  an  occasional 
article  ;  and  also  delivered  an  occasional  address.  Those 
who  would  like  to  read  his  first  printed  oration,  which  was 


30 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 


delivered  to  the  people  of  Hanover,  are  referred  to  the 
choice  collections  of  American  antiquarians ;  and  it  is  to 
be  regretted  that  it  did  not  appear  in  the  late  edition  of 
his  works.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  it  proves  his  bosom  to 
have  been,  even  at  that  early  day,  full  of  patriotism,  and 
that  in  his  youth  the  seeds  of  his  noblest  sentiments  had 
taken  deep  root.  The  title-page  was  as  follows  :  "An 
Oration,  pronounced  at  Hanover,  N.  H.,  the  4th  of  July, 
1800,  being  the  twenty-fourth  Anniversary  of  American 
Independence.  By  Daniel  Webster,  Member  of  the  Jun 
ior  Class,  Dartmouth  College. 

"  Do  thou,  great  Liberty,  inspire  our  souls, 
And  make  our  lives  in  thy  possession  happy, 
Or  our  deaths  glorious  in  thy  just  defense. — ADDISON. 

Published  by  request,  and  printed  at  Hanover,  by  Moses 
Davis." 

On  his  return  home  from  college,  the  one  great  thought 
which  occupied  his  mind  was  that  his  brother  Ezekiel 
should  also  receive  a  liberal  education.  But  his  father 
was  poor,  and  how  could  this  result  be  attained  ?  "  By 
keeping  school,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  and  this  shall  be  the 
first  business  of  my  life."  No  sooner  had  this  idea  occur 
red  to  him  than  he  sought  an  opportunity  to  broach  it  to 
his  much-loved  brother.  The  boys  slept  together,  and  he 
did  this  on  their  next  retiring  to  bed.  Ezekiel  was  sur 
prised,  but  delighted,  for  he  had  long  felt  a  yearning  de 
sire  to  acquire  a  college  education.  The  trying  circum 
stances  of  the  family  were,  of  course,  all  discussed,  and 
as  they  thought  of  the  strong  affection  which  existed  be 
tween  them,  and  of  the  "  clouds  and  shadows"  which  en- 


DANIEL    WEBSTER.  31 

veloped  the  future,  they  talked  and  talked,  and  wept  many 
and  bitter  tears,  so  that  when  morning  came  it  found  the 
brothers  still  wakeful,  troubled,  and  unhappy,  but  yet  de 
termined  and  hopeful.  On  that  very  day,  the  youth  Dan 
iel  left  his  home  to  become  a  country  schoolmaster,  while 
Ezekiel  hastened  to  place  himself  under  the  preparatory 
tuition  of  the  Rev.  Samuel  Woods,  as  his  brother  had  done 
before  him. 

The  place  where  Mr.  "Webster  spent  the  most  of  his  time 
as  a  schoolmaster  was  Fryeburg,  in  the  State  of  Maine. 
He  had  been  invited  thither  by  a  friend  of  his  father,  who 
was  acquainted  with  the  circumstances  of  the  family. 
His  school  was  quite  large,  and  his  salary  $350,  to  which 
he  added  a  considerable  sum  by  devoting  his  evenings  to 
copying  deeds,  in  the  office  of  the  county  recorder,  at  twen 
ty-five  cents  per  deed.  He  also  found  time  during  this 
period  to  go  through  with  his  first  reading  of  Blackstone's 
Commentaries,  and  other  substantial  works,  which  have 
been  so  good  a  foundation  to  his  after  fame. 

The  writer  once  questioned  Mr.  Webster  as  to  his  per 
sonal  appearance  when  officiating  as  a  pedagogue,  and  his 
reply  was,  "  Long,  slender,  pale,  and  all  eyes  ;  indeed,  I 
went  by  the  name  of  all  eyes  the  country  round." 

During  the  summer  of  1851,  when  returning  from  a 
visit  to  the  White  Mountains,  accompanied  by  his  son 
Fletcher,  he  went  out  of  his  way  to  spend  a  day  or  two 
in  the  town  of  Fryeburg.  He  revisited,  after  the  lapse 
of  half  a  century,  the  office  of  the  Recorder  of  Deeds,  and 
there  found  and  exhibited  to  his  son  two  large  bound  vol 
umes  of  his  own  handwriting,  the  sight  of  which  was,  of 


Ox£  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

course,  suggestive  of  manifold  emotions.  The  son  testi 
fies  that  the  penmanship  is  neat  and  elegant ;  and  the 
father  that  the  ache  is  not  yet  out  of  those  fingers  which 
so  much  writing  caused  them.  In  one  of  the  volumes 
was  found  a  respectful  and  affectionate  vote  of  thanks 
and  good-will  for  the  services  he  had  performed. 

It  is  said  by  those  who  knew  Mr.  Webster  at  Fryeburg, 
that  his  only  recreation,  while  a  school-teacher,  was  de 
rived  from  trout  fishing,  and  that  his  Wednesday  and  Sat 
urday  afternoons  were  almost  invariably  spent  wandering 
alone,  with  rod  in  hand,  and  a  copy  of  Shakspeare  in  his 
pocket,  along  the  wild  and  picturesque  brooks  of  that  sec 
tion  of  country. 

As  Dartmouth  College  gave  Mr.  Webster  the  greater 
part  of  his  classical  education,  it  ought  to  be  mentioned 
how  it  was  that  he  was  subsequently  enabled  to  make  an 
adequate  return  to  that  institution.  In  1816,  according 
to  the  clear  narrative  of  Samuel  L.  Knapp,  the  Legislature 
of  New  Hampshire,  believing  that  the  right  of  altering  or 
amending  the  charter  of  this  college,  which  had  been 
granted  by  the  king  previous  to  the  Revolution,  was  vested 
in  them  by  the  Constitution  of  the  state,  proceeded  to  en 
large  and  improve  it.  This  act  was  not  accepted  nor  as 
sented  to  by  the  trustees  of  Dartmouth  College,  and  they 
refused  to  submit  to  it  any  further  than  they  were  com 
pelled  to  do  so  by  the  necessities  of  the  case.  The  new  in 
stitution,  called  by  the  act  of  the  Legislature,  "  The  Dart 
mouth  University,"  went  into  operation,  as  far  as  existing 
circumstances  would  permit.  There  were  two  presidents, 
two  sets  of  professors  in  the  same  village,  and,  of  course, 


DANIEL     WEBSTER. 


33 


no  good  fellowship  between  them.  The  students  general 
ly  took  side  with  the  college  party,  a  few  only  going  over 
to  the  university.  It  was  a  very  uncomfortable  state  of 
things.  The  faculty  of  both  institutions  were  highly  re 
spectable,  and  capable  of  building  up  any  literary  and 
scientific  seminary,  had  they  been  under  different  auspi 
ces.  The  lawyers  were  consulted,  and  the  most  distin 
guished  of  them,  Smith,  Mason,  and  "Webster,  were  of  the 
opinion  that  the  act  of  the  Legislature  of  New  Hampshire 
was  unconstitutional,  and  of  course  not  valid.  It  was 
conceded  that  there  were  many  difficulties  in  the  case  ; 
but  it  was  indispensable  that  the  question  should  be  de 
cided,  that  one  of  the  institutions  might  survive  the  quar 
rel.  The  records,  charter,  and  the  evidence  of  the  college 
property,  were  in  the  hands  of  the  new  treasurer,  and  an 
action  of  trover  was  brought  by  the  trustees  of  Dartmouth 
College  to  recover  them.  The  facts  were  agreed  on.  The 
question,  "Whether  the  acts  of  the  Legislature  of  New 
Hampshire,  of  the  27th  of  June,  and  of  the  16th  and  18th 
of  December,  1816,  are  valid  and  binding  on  the  rights  of 
the  plaintiffs,  without  their  acceptance  or  assent  ?" 

It  was  a  great  constitutional  question.  The  people  of 
Massachusetts  took  as  deep  an  interest  in  it  as  those  of 
New  Hampshire.  The  cause  was  ably  argued  before  the 
Supreme  Court  of  New  Hampshire,  and  the  opinion  of  the 
court  was  given  by  Chief-justice  Richardson,  in  favor  of 
the  validity  and  constitutionality  of  the  acts  of  the  Legis 
lature,  and  judgment  was  accordingly  entered  up  for  the 
defendant.  Thereupon  a  writ  of  error  was  sued  out  by 
the  plaintiffs  in  the  original  suit,  and  the  cause  removed 

B2 


34  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

to  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States.  In  March, 
1818,  the  cause  was  argued  before  all  the  judges  by  Mr. 
Webster  and  Mr.  Hopkinson  for  the  plaintiffs,  and  by  Mr. 
Holmes  and  Mr.  "Wirt  for  the  defendant  in  error.  The 
anxiety  of  the  parties,  the  great  constitutional  principle 
involved,  the  deep  interest  felt  by  every  lawyer  in  the 
country  in  the  decision  of  the  question,  gave  more  noto 
riety  to  the  cause  than  to  any  ever  brought  before  that 
august  tribunal.  Some  were  apprehensive  that  the  court 
would  evade  the  question  in  some  way  or  other.  Mr. 
Webster  had  no  such  fears.  He  knew  the  judges  well 
enough  to  believe,  that  while  they  were  not  anxious  to 
meet  constitutional  questions,  whenever  they  were  fully 
brought  before  them,  the  subject  would  be  most  solemnly 
considered  and  as  fearlessly  decided.  The  question  was 
argued  on  both  sides  with  great  ability.  The  counsel 
were  men  of  research,  and  their  reputations  were  in  the 
case  ;  for  it  was  well  known,  whatever  way  it  was  decided, 
it  would  form  a  leading  case.  Mr.  Webster  came  to  his 
work  fully  possessed  of  all  the  views  that  could  be  taken 
of  the  subject,  and  he  sustained  and  increased  by  this  ar 
gument  the  reputation  he  had  acquired  as  a  profound  con 
stitutional  law^yer.  Chiefly  through  his  acknowledged  in 
strumentality,  the  judgment  of  the  State  Court  was  re 
versed,  the  acts  of  the  Legislature  declared  null  and  void, 
as  being  unconstitutional.  The  university  disappeared ; 
the  college  rose  with  new  vigor,  and  the  people  of  New 
Hampshire  acquiesced  in  the  decision,  and  a  great  portion 
of  the  thinking  people  of  the  country  considered  it  as  a 
new  proof  of  the  wisdom  and  strength  of  the  Constitution 
of  the  United  States. 


DANIEL     WEBSTER. 


35 


EARLY  LEGAL  CAREER. 

MR.  WEBSTER  was  admitted  to  the  practice  of  the  law, 
in  Boston,  in  1805,  and  was  first  introduced  to  the  public 
as  a  lawyer  by  the  distinguished  person  with  whom  he  had 
chiefly  studied  his  profession,  Christopher  Gore.  After 
practicing  in  Boston  about  one  year,  his  father  died,  and 
he  returned  to  his  paternal  home.  In  1807  he  was  ad 
mitted  to  practice  in  the  courts  of  New  Hampshire,  and 
took  up  his  residence  at  Portsmouth,  where  he  remained 
about  nine  years. 

It  ought  to  be  mentioned  in  this  place,  however,  that, 
just  before  entering  upon  his  Boston  practice,  he  was 
tendered  the  vacant  clerkship  of  the  Court  of  Common 
Pleas  for  the  county  of  Hillsborough,  New  Hampshire,  of 
which  his  father  was  one  of  the  judges,  and  the  appoint 
ment  had  been  bestowed  upon  his  son  by  his  colleagues  as 
a  token  of  personal  regard.  The  office  was  worth  some 
fifteen  hundred  dollars,  which  in  those  days,  and  that  sec 
tion  of  country,  was  equal  to  the  salary  of  Secretary  of 
State  at  the  present  time.  Delighted  with  this  realiza 
tion  of  his  most  sanguine  hopes,  the  father  hastened  to 
communicate  the  joyful  intelligence  to  his  son. 

That  son  was  then  a  student  in  the  office  of  Christopher 
Gore,  in  Boston.  He  received  the  news  with  sensations 
of  gladness  that  he  had  never  before  experienced.  With 


36  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

a  loud,  throbbing  heart  he  announced  the  tidings  to  his 
legal  counselor  and  friend,  and,  to  his  utter  astonishment, 
that  far-seeing  and  sagacious  man  expressed,  in  the  most 
pointed  manner,  his  utter  disapprobation  of  the  proposed 
change  in  his  pursuits.  "  But  my  father  is  poor,  and  I 
wish  to  make  him  comfortable  in  his  old  age,"  replied  the 
student. 

"That  may  all  be,"  continued  Mr.  Grore,  "  but  you 
should  think  of  the  future  more  than  of  the  present.  Be 
come  once  a  clerk  and  you  will  always  be  a  clerk,  with 
no  prospect  of  attaining  a  higher  position.  Go  on  and  fin 
ish  your  legal  studies ;  you  are,  indeed,  poor,  but  there  are 
greater  evils  than  poverty  ;  live  on  no  man's  favor  ;  what 
bread  you  do  eat,  let  it  be  the  bread  of  independence  ;  pur 
sue  your  profession ;  make  yourself  useful  to  the  world 
and  formidable  to  your  enemies,  and  you  will  have  noth 
ing  to  fear." 

The  student  listened  attentively  to  these  sound  argu 
ments,  and  had  the  good  sense  to  appreciate  them.  His 
determination  was  immediately  made ;  and  now  came 
the  dreaded  business  of  advising  his  father  as  to  his  in 
tended  course.  He  felt  that  it  would  be  a  difficult  task 
to  satisfy  him  of  its  propriety,  and  he  therefore  determined 
to  go  home  without  delay,  and  give  him  in  full  all  the 
reasons  of  his  conduct. 

In  three  days,  in  spite  of  the  inclemency  of  the  weath 
er,  for  it  was  winter,  he  had  reached  the  dwelling  on  Elms 
Farm.  According  to  his  own  account,  he  arrived  there 
in  the  evening,  and  found  his  father  sitting  before  the  fire. 
He  received  him  with  manifest  joy.  He  looked  feebler 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  37 

than  he  had  ever  appeared,  but  his  countenance  lighted 
up  on  seeing  his  clerk  stand  before  him  in  good  health 
and  spirits.  He  lost  no  time  in  alluding  to  the  great  ap 
pointment;  said  how  spontaneously  it  had  been  made, 
how  kindly  the  chief  justice  proposed  it,  and  with  what 
unanimity  all  assented.  During  this  speech,  it  can  be 
well  imagined  how  embarrassed  Mr.  Webster  felt,  com 
pelled,  as  he  thought,  from  a  conviction  of  duty,  to  disap 
point  his  father's  sanguine  expectations.  Nevertheless, 
he  commanded  his  countenance  and  voice,  so  as  to  reply 
in  a  sufficiently  assured  manner.  He  spoke  gayly  about 
the  office  ;  expressed  his  great  obligation  to  their  honors, 
and  his  intention  to  write  them  a  most  respectful  letter ; 
if  he  could  have  consented  to  record  any  body's  judgments, 
he  should  have  been  proud  to  have  recorded  their  honors, 
&c.,  &c.  He  proceeded  in  this  strain  till  his  father  ex 
hibited  signs  of  amazement,  it  having  occurred  to  him, 
finally,  that  his  son  might  all  the  while  be  serious.  "Do 
you  intend  to  decline  this  office  ?"  he  said,  at  length. 
"  Most  certainly,"  replied  his  son.  "  I  can  not  think  of 
doing  otherwise.  I  mean  to  use  my  tongue  in  the  courts, 
not  my  pen ;  to  be  an  actor,  not  a  register  of  other  men's 
actions." 

For  a  moment  Judge  Webster  seemed  angry.  He  rock 
ed  his  chair  slightly ;  a  flash  went  over  his  eye,  softened 
by  age,  but  even  then  black  as  jet,  but  it  soon  disappeared, 
and  his  countenance  regained  its  usual  serenity.  "Well, 
my  son,"  said  Judge  Webster,  finally,  "  your  mother  al 
ways  said  that  you  would  come  to  something  or  nothing 
— become  a  somebody  or  a  nobody  ;  it  is  now  settled  that 


38 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 


you  are  to  be  a  nobody."  In  a  few  days  the  student  re 
turned  to  Boston,  and  the  subject  was  never  afterward 
mentioned  in  the  family. 

Within  six  months  after  Mr.  Webster  had  declined  the 
county  court  clerkship,  he  was,  even  as  a  student  in  Mr. 
Grore's  office,  remarkably  successful  in  accumulating  mon 
ey  for  his  legal  services,  and  being  aware  of  the  fact  that 
his  father  was  considerably  embarrassed  in  his  circum 
stances,  he  resolved  to  go  home  and  liquidate  all  the  pend 
ing  claims.  He  arrived  at  home  ostensibly  for  a  friendly 
visit.  It  was  Saturday  night,  and  he  sought  an  early  op 
portunity  to  have  a  private  interview  with  his  father. 
"  Father,  I  am  going  to  pay  your  debts,"  said  he. 

"  Oh,  my  son,  that  can  never  be  ;  you  know  not  how 
numerous  they  are." 

"  But  I  can,  and  will,  father  ;  and  that,  too,  before  next 
Monday  night." 

On  the  Tuesday  morning  following,  Judge  Webster  was 
a  free  man,  and  his  son  Daniel  was  on  his  return  to  Boston. 

Mr.  Webster  practiced  law  in  Portsmouth  nearly  nine 
years,  and  during  that  time  one  of  his  best  friends,  and 
also  his  most  prominent  competitor,  was  the  distinguished 
Jeremiah  Mason.  On  one  occasion  a  gentleman  called 
upon  the  former  for  the  purpose  of  securing  his  services 
in  a  lawsuit ;  but  Mr.  Webster  was  compelled  to  decline 
the  engagement,  but  recommended  his  client  to  Mr.  Mason. 

"What  do  you  think  of  the  abilities  of  Mr.  Mason?" 
said  the  gentleman. 

"  I  think  him  second  to  no  man  in  the  country,"  replied 
Mr.  Webster. 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  39 

The  gentleman  called  upon  Mr.  Mason,  and  having  se 
cured  his  promise  of  assistance,  he  thought  he  would  grat 
ify  his  curiosity,  and  therefore  questioned  him  as  to  his 
opinion  of  Mr.  Webster.  "  He's  the  very  devil,  in  any 
case  whatsoever,"  replied  Mr.  Mason  ;  "  and  if  he's  against 
you,  I  beg  to  be  excused." 

Mr.  Webster,  who  subsequently  met  Pinkney,  and  Wirt, 
and  Emmet  at  the  bar,  recently  said  that  he  never  feared 
any  of  them  so  much  as  Jeremiah  Mason. 

The  first  meeting  of  Mr.  Webster  with  Jeremiah  Mason 
was  in  a  criminal  trial.  A  noted  person,  belonging  to  the 
Democratic  party,  had  been  indicted  for  counterfeiting, 
and  it  was  deemed  particularly  important  that  he  should 
be  acquitted.  Mr.  Mason  stood  foremost  among  his  pro 
fessional  brethren,  and  was  of  course  employed  to  defend 
the  accused.  When  the  trial  came  on,  the  Attorney  Gren- 
eral  happened  to  be  absent,  whereupon  Mr.  Webster  was 
delegated  to  conduct  the  prosecution  for  the  state.  Mr. 
Mason  came  into  court,  and  conducted  himself  somewhat 
after  the  manner  of  Groliath  ;  but  when  Mr.  Webster,  like 
another  David  (to  use  the  language  of  a  contemporary), 
"  came  down  upon  his  distinguished  opponent  like  a  show 
er  of  hail,"  Mr.  Mason  was  astonished,  and  began  to  trem 
ble  for  the  fate  of  his  client.  It  so  happened,  however, 
that  a  Democratic  jury  acquitted  their  friend ;  but  Mr. 
Mason  subsequently  expressed  himself  as  having  being 
struck  with  the  high,  open,  and  manly  ground  taken  by 
Mr.  Webster,  not  resorting  to  technicalities,  but  sticking 
to  the  main  points  of  the  law  and  the  facts,  and  at  that 


40  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

early  period  prophesied  that  his  future  public  career  would 
be  particularly  brilliant  and  useful. 

In  legal  acquirements  and  logical  skill,  Jeremiah  Ma 
son  and  Jeremiah  Smith,  according  to  the  Rev.  John  H. 
Morrison,  were  not  the  unworthy  associates  and  antago 
nists  of  Daniel  Webster ;  while,  in  the  combination  of 
gifts  which  make  the  commanding  orator,  he  stood  with 
them,  as  he  had  done  every  where  else,  like  Mount  Wash 
ington  among  the  other  mountains  of  New  England.  Mr. 
Smith  often  said  that  in  single  qualities  he  had  known 
men  superior  to  Mr.  Webster ;  that  Hamilton  had  more 
original  genius  ;  Ames  greater  quickness  of  imagination ; 
that  Marshall,  Parsons,  and  Dexter  were  as  remarkable 
for  logical  strength ;  but  that  in  the  union  of  high  intel 
lectual  qualities  he  had  known  no  man  whom  he  thought 
his  equal. 

Among  the  New  Hampshire  anecdotes  which  Mr.  Web 
ster  was  in  the  habit  of  occasionally  narrating  to  his  friends 
was  the  following,  which  we  give  the  substance  of  in  near 
ly  his  own  words : 

"  Soon  after  commencing  the  practice  of  my  profession 
at  Portsmouth,  I  was  waited  on  by  an  old  acquaintance 
of  my  father's,  resident  in  an  adjacent  county,  who  wished 
to  engage  my  professional  services.  Some  years  previous, 
he  had  rented  a  farm,  with  the  clear  understanding  that 
he  could  purchase  it,  after  the  expiration  of  his  lease,  for 
one  thousand  dollars.  Finding  the  said  productive,  he 
soon  determined  to  own  it,  and,  as  he  laid  aside  money 
for  the  purchase,  he  was  prompted  to  improve  what  he 
felt  certain  he  would  possess.  But  his  landlord  finding  the 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  41 

property  greatly  increased  in  value,  coolly  refused  to  receive 
the  one  thousand  dollars,  when  in  due  time  it  was  pre 
sented  ;  and  when  his  extortionate  demand  of  double  that 
sum  was  refused,  he  at  once  brought  an  action  of  eject 
ment.  The  man  had  but  the  one  thousand  dollars,  and  an 
unblemished  reputation,  yet  I  willingly  undertook  his  case. 

"The  opening  argument  of  the  plaintiff's  attorney  left 
me  little  ground  for  hope.  He  stated  that  he  could  prove 
that  my  client  hired  the  farm,  but  there  was  not  a  word  in 
the  lease  about  the  sale,  nor  was  there  a  word  spoken 
about  the  sale  when  the  lease  was  signed,  as  he  should 
prove  by  a  witness.  In  short,  his  was  a  clear  case,  and 
I  left  the  court-room  at  dinner-time  with  feeble  hopes  of 
success.  By  chance,  I  sat  at  table  next  a  newly-com 
missioned  militia  officer,  and  a  brother  lawyer  began  to 
joke  him  about  his  lack  of  martial  knowledge  ;  '  Indeed,' 
he  jocosely  remarked,  '  you  should  write  down  the  orders, 

and  get  old  W to  beat  them  into  your  sconce,  as  I 

saw  him  this  morning,  with  a  paper  in  his  hand,  teaching 
something  to  young  M in  the  court-house  entry.' 

"  Can  it  be,  I  thought,  that  old  W ,  the  plaintiff  in 

the  case,  was  instructing  young  M ,  who  was  his  re 
liable  witness  ? 

"  After  dinner  the  court  was  reopened,  and  M was 

put  on  the  stand.  He  was  examined  by  the  plaintiff's 
counsel,  and  certainly  told  a  clear,  plain  story,  repudiating 
all  knowledge  of  any  agreement  to  sell.  When  he  had 
concluded,  the  opposite  counsel,  with  a  triumphant  glance, 
turned  to  me,  and  asked  me  if  I  was  satisfied  ?  '  Not 
quite,'  I  replied. 


42  PRIVATELIFEOP 

"  I  had  noticed  a  piece  of  paper  protruding  from  M 's 

pocket,  and  hastily  approaching  him,  I  seized  it  before  he 
had  the  least  idea  of  my  intention.  *  Now,'  I  asked,  'tell 
me  if  this  paper  does  not  detail  the  story  you  have  so  clear 
ly  told,  and  is  it  not  false  ?'  The  witness  hung  his  head 
with  shame  ;  and  when  the  paper  was  found  to  be  what 

I  had  supposed,  and  in  the  very  handwriting  of  old  W , 

he  lost  his  case  at  once.  Nay,  there  was  such  a  storm  of 
indignation  against  him  that  he  soon  removed  to  the  West. 

"  Years  afterward,  visiting  New  Hampshire,  I  was  the 
guest  of  my  professional  brethren  at  a  public  dinner  ;  and 
toward  the  close  of  the  festivities,  I  was  asked  if  I  would 
solve  a  great  doubt  by  answering  a  question.  *  Certainly.' 
*  Well,  then,  Mr.  Webster,  we  have  often  wondered  how 
you  knew  what  was  in  M 's  pocket.' ': 

By  way  of  showing  the  character  of  some  of  his  fees 
while  practicing  law  at  Portsmouth,  the  following  incident 
is  worth  recording  :  One  of  his  clients,  after  gaining  a  cer 
tain  suit,  found  himself  unable  to  raise  the  necessary 
funds  to  pay  his  lawyer,  and  therefore  insisted  upon  deed 
ing  to  him  a  piece  of  land  in  a  neighboring  county.  And 
so  the  matter  rested  for  many  years.  Happening  to  be  on 
a  visit  to  this  county  at  a  subsequent  period,  he  hunted 
out  this  land,  and  found  an  old  woman  living  upon  it 
alone,  in  an  old  house  situated  among  rocks.  He  ques 
tioned  the  woman  about  the  farm,  and  learned  that  it  was 
the  property  of  a  lawyer  named  Webster,  and  that  she  was 
daily  expecting  him  to  come  on  and  turn  her  out  of  doors. 
Whereupon  he  made  himself  known  as  the  proprietor,  gave 
her  a  word  of  consolation,  with  a  present  of  fifty  dollars, 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  43 

broke  bread  with  her  at  her  humble  board,  and  took  his 
departure.  From  that  time  to  the  present  the  place  has 
been  known  as  "  Webster's  Farm,"  and  it  is  believed  that 
up  to  the  day  of  his  death  the  idea  of  this  possession  had 
never  entered  his  mind. 

At  the  time  that  Mr.  Webster  quitted  Portsmouth  for 
Boston,  he  was  doing  the  heaviest  law  business  of  any 
man  in  New  Hampshire ;  he  was  retained  in  nearly  all 
the  important  causes,  and  but  seldom  appeared  as  the 
junior  counsel.  His  practice  was  chiefly  in  the  Circuit 
Courts  ;  and  during  the  last  six  weeks  of  his  labors,  previ 
ous  to  his  departure  for  Boston,  his  earnings  amounted  to 
only  five  hundred  dollars.  This  was  the  result  of  a  jour 
ney  into  every  county  in  the  state,  and  was  really  the 
primal  cause  of  his  removal  to  a  wider  sphere  of  action. 

When  Mr.  Webster  was  practicing  law  in  his  native 
state,  "  riding  the  circuit"  was  a  very  different  matter 
from  what  it  now  is,  in  this  age  of  rail-roads.  So  extens 
ive  was  his  business,  even  at  this  period,  that  he  was  fre 
quently  compelled  to  journey  from  one  place  to  another 
during  the  night.  On  one  occasion,  after  a  toilsome  series 
of  days  and  nights,  he  was  journeying  on  horseback,  as 
usual,  along  a  lonely  road,  when  he  fell  into  a  profound 
study  upon  the  merits  of  the  case  he  was  compelled  to  at 
tend  to  on  the  following  morning.  Long  and  tedious  was 
the  trial  as  it  proceeded  in  the  chamber  of  his  brain,  when, 
just  as  the  jury  was  about  to  pronounce  the  verdict,  a  drop 
of  water  fell  upon  his  hand,  and  lo  !  as  the  moon  came  out 
of  a  cloud,  he  found  himself  comfortably  seated  on  his 
horse,  which  had  sought  a  convenient  standing-place  un- 


44  PRIVATE     LIFE     OP 

der  an  old  oak,  as  if  determined  that  its  master  should 
enjoy  the  quiet  nap  which  he  so  much  needed.  Thanks 
to  the  dew-drop,  the  journey  was  resumed,  and  the  cause 
of  the  following  day  was  satisfactorily  settled. 

It  was  in  the  year  1817  that  Mr.  Webster  took  up  his 
permanent  residence  in  Boston.  During  his  career  as  a 
member  of  Congress,  to  which  he  was  first  elected  in  1812, 
his  legal  and  private  interests  had  materially  suffered,  and 
he  felt  the  need  of  a  broader  field  than  Portsmouth  for  his 
future  action.  He  had  already  become  identified,  says 
Mr.  Knapp,  in  his  biography,  with  the  interests  of  the  New 
England  metropolis,  and  the  more  opulent  merchants  do 
ing  business  there  were  ready  to  employ  him.  Boston 
was  then  the  residence  of  some  of  the  first  lawyers  of  the 
nation  ;  such  men,  for  example,  as  Dexter,  Prescott,  Otis, 
Sullivan,  Shaw,  G-orham,  and  Hubbard,  and  there  seemed 
to  be  little  room  for  another  in  the  upper  class  of  the  legal 
fraternity  ;  but  Mr.  "Webster  seemed  to  walk  into  this  dis 
tinguished  company  like  one  who  had  a  right  to  be  there, 
and  though  many  opened  wide  their  eyes,  none  dared  to 
question  his  right  to  be  there.  In  a  very  few  months  his 
name  appeared  as  senior  counsel  in  many  important 
causes,  and  he  deported  himself  like  one  who  was  simply 
enjoying  his  birth-right.  His  practice  was  not  confined 
to  the  county  of  Suffolk,  but  extended  to  the  neighboring 
counties,  and  others  in  the  interior  of  the  state.  His  pow 
ers  as  an  advocate  and  a  lawyer  were  at  once  conceded, 
though  some  found  fault  with  his  manners  at  the  bar  as 
a  little  too  severe  and  sharp  ;  this,  however,  was  soon  for 
gotten  in  the  admiration  that  every  where  followed  him. 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  45 

The  people  were  always  with  him,  and  few  had  the  har 
dihood  to  declare  themselves  his  rivals. 

As  were  his  manners  at  the  bar  some  thirty  years  ago, 
so  were  they  through  his  life,  whenever  he  appeared  in  a 
deliberative  assembly.  He  began  to  state  his  points  in  a 
low  voice,  and  in  a  slow,  cool,  cautious,  and  philosophical 
manner.  If  the  case  was  of  importance,  he  went  on,  ham 
mering  out,  link  by  link,  his  chain  of  argument,  with 
ponderous  blows,  leisurely  inflicted ;  and,  while  thus  at 
labor,  you  rather  saw  the  sinews  of  the  arm  than  the  skill 
of  the  artist.  It  was  in  reply,  however,  that  he  came  out 
in  the  majesty  of  intellectual  grandeur,  and  poured  forth 
the  opulence  of  his  mind  ;  it  was  when  the  arrows  of  the 
enemy  had  hit  him  that  he  was  all  might  and  soul,  and 
showered  his  words  of  weight  and  fire.  His  style  of  ora 
tory  was  founded  on  no  model,  but  was  entirely  his  own. 
He  dealt  not  with  the  fantastic  and  poetical,  but  with  the 
niM.ttor-ol-fii.ct,  e.  very-day  world,  and  the  multifarious  af 
fairs  of  his  fellow-men,  extricating  them  from  difficulties, 
and  teaching  them  how  to  become  happy.  He  never 
strove  to  dazzle,  astonish,  or  confuse,  but  went  on  to  con 
vince  and  conquer  by  great  but  legitimate  means.  When 
he  went  out  to  battle,  he  went  alone,  trusting  to  no  earth 
ly  arm  but  his  own.  He  asked  for  no  trophies  but  his 
own  conquests ;  he  looked  not  for  the  laurel  of  victory, 
but  it  was  proffered  to  him  by  all,  and  bound  his  brow 
until  he  went  out  on  some  new  exploit. 

As  Mr.  Webster  was  a  prominent  politician  for  about 
forty  years,  it  may  gratify  curiosity  to  know  when  and 
how  he  entered  upon  this  important  career.  It  was  be- 


46 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OP 


fore  he  had  attained  his  thirtieth  year,  when  the  times 
were  stormy,  and  party  spirit  ran  high  in  view  of  a  war 
with  Great  Britain.  He  entered  the  field,  says  Mr. 
Knapp,  like  one  who  had  made  up  his  mind  to  be  decid 
ed,  firm,  and  straightforward  in  all  his  actions.  No  pol 
itician  was  ever  more  direct  and  bold,  and  he  had  nothing 
of  the  demagogue  about  him.  Fully  persuaded  of  the 
true  course,  he  followed  it  with  so  much  firmness  and 
principle,  that  sometimes  his  serenity  was  taken  by  the 
furious  and  headstrong  as  apathy ;  but  when  a  fair  and 
legitimate  opportunity  offered,  he  came  out  with  such 
strength  and  manliness  that  the  doubting  were  satisfied 
and  the  complaining  silenced.  In  the  worst  of  times  and 
the  darkest  hour,  he  had  faith  in  the  redeeming  qualities 
of  the  people.  They  might  be  wrong,  but  he  saw  into 
their  true  character  sufficiently  to  believe  that  they  would 
never  remain  permanently  in  error.  In  some  of  his  con 
versations  upon  the  subject,  he  compared  the  people,  in 
the  management  of  the  national  affairs,  to  that  of  the  sa 
gacious  and  indefatigable  raftsmen  on  his  native  Merri- 
mack,  who  had  falls  and  shoals  to  contend  with  in  their 
course  to  the  ocean — guiding  fearlessly  and  skillfully  over 
the  former — between  rocks  and  through  breakers ;  and, 
when  reaching  the  sand-banks,  jumping  off  into  the  water, 
with  lever,  ax,  and  oar  ;  and  then,  with  pushing,  cutting, 
and  directing,  made  all  rub  and  go  to  the  astonishment 
of  those  looking  on. 

The  first  halo  of  political  glory  that  hung  around  his 
brow  was  at  a  convention  of  the  great  spirits  in  the  county 
of  Rockingham,  where  he  then  resided,  and  such  represent- 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  47 

atives  from  other  counties  as  were  sent  to  this  convention, 
to  take  into  consideration  the  state  of  the  nation,  and  to 
mark  out  such  a  course  for  themselves  as  should  be  deemed 
advisable  by  the  collected  wisdom  of  those  assembled. 
On  this  occasion  an  address  with  a  string  of  resolutions 
were  proposed  for  adoption,  of  which  he  was  the  author. 
They  exhibited  uncommon  powers  of  intellect,  and  a  pro 
found  knowledge  of  our  national  interests.  He  made  a 
most  powerful  speech  in  support  of  these  resolutions,  por 
tions  of  which  were  printed  at  the  time,  and  much  ad 
mired  throughout  the  Union.  From  this  time  he  belonged 
to  the  United  States,  and  not  to  New  Hampshire  exclu 
sively.  Massachusetts  also  took  as  great  an  interest  in  his 
career  as  his  native  state.  After  the  above  debut,  crowds 
gathered  around  him  on  every  occasion  that  he  appeared, 
and  his  speeches  were  invariably  received  with  the  most 
sincere  and  heartfelt  applause. 


48 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 


ELMS  FARM. 

THE  spot  where  Mr.  "Webster  spent  the  greater  part  of 
his  childhood  and  youth  is  known  as  the  "  Elms  Farm," 
and  is  only  about  three  miles  from  his  birth-place.  It 
contains  one  thousand  acres,  lies  directly  in  a  bend  of  the 
Merrimack,  and  is  one  of  the  finest  farms  in  New  Hamp 
shire.  It  descended  to  his  brother  Ezekiel  and  himself 
after  the  death  of  their  father  in  1806,  and  though  in 
trinsically  of  great  value,  yet  to  the  admirer  of  the  great 
and  good  in  human  intellect  it  must  ever  be  a  kind  of 
Mecca,  and  possess  a  value  not  to  be  estimated  by  money. 
A  portion  of  it  is  interval  land,  while  the  remainder  com 
prehends  a  number  of  picturesque  hills,  from  some  of 
which  may  be  seen  the  White  Mountains,  including  the 
grand  summit  of  Mount  Washington,  and  between  Kear- 
sage  and  the  Ragged  Mountains  the  picturesque  peak 
of  Ascutny,  in  Vermont. 

It  is  pre-eminently  a  grazing  farm,  and  one  of  the  mead 
ow  fields  alone  contains  nearly  one  hundred  acres,  and  as 
it  is  encircled  and  occasionally  dotted  with  graceful  elms, 
it  presents  a  truly  charming  appearance  ;  especially  so 
during  the  haying  season,  when  a  score  or  two  of  men  are 
wielding  the  scythe  in  a  kind  of  cavalcade ;  or  when,  as 
in  autumn,  it  is  the  pasturing  ground  of  herds  composed 
of  the  Devon,  Ayrshire,  and  Hereford  breeds  of  cattle. 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  49 

Near  the  centre  of  the  above  field  are  the  almost  obliter 
ated  remains  of  a  fort  which  links  the  farm  with  its  early 
history,  when  this  particular  region  was  the  frontier  of  the 
British  colonies,  and  when  the  Indians,  as  the  allies  of  the 
French,  made  it  their  chief  business  to  destroy  the  pioneer 
inhabitants.  The  fort  stood  on  a  ridge  of  land  south  of 
the  burying-ground,  and  the  plow  which  passes  over  it 
at  the  present  day  frequently  brings  to  light  warlike  me 
morials  of  the  olden  times.  But  a  Sabbath  peace  now 
broods  over  the  domain  of  the  Webster  family ;  the  wil 
derness  has  indeed  blossomed  as  the  rose  ;  the  war-whoop 
has  given  place  to  the  lowing  of  cattle,  the  bleating  of 
sheep,  and  the  tinkling  of  bells ;  and  yet  it  is  pleasant  to 
know  that  the  changes  are  not  universal ;  for  the  same 
morning  and  evening  atmospheres  —  the  same  healthful 
breezes — and  the  same  loud  singing  birds,  with  the  whip- 
powil,  too,  were  recently  there  to  make  glad  and  to  soothe 
the  heart,  in  the  evening  as  once  in  the  morning  of  his 
days,  of  that  great  and  good  man  who  was  born  among 
these  hills,  and  whose  name  has  baptized  them  with  a 
classic  fame.  One  of  the  last  Indian  murders  committed 
in  New  Hampshire,  that  of  Mrs.  Call,  was  on  this  estate. 
Here  yet  remain  the  cellar  of  her  habitation,  and  the  visi 
ble  plot  of  her  garden,  where  her  husband  raised  his  In 
dian  corn  one  hundred  years  ago,  and  down  to  the  period 
of  Mr.  Webster's  recollection  parsnips  in  this  garden  had 
perpetuated  themselves.  The  tradition  is,  that  Philip  Call 
and  his  son  were  at  work  in  a  meadow.  In  the  house  were 
Mrs.  Call  the  elder  and  her  daughter-in-law,  who  at  the 
time  had  an  infant  in  her  arms.  Seeing  the  Indians  com- 

G 


50  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

ing,  the  young  woman  crept  in  behind  the  chimney,  hush 
ed  her  child,  and  was  not  discovered  by  them.  Mrs.  Call 
was  killed,  and  the  Indians  departed.  Mr.  Webster's  fa- 
iher  bought  the  farm  of  Philip  Call;  and  John  Call,  the 
preserved  child,  Mr.  Webster  knew  in  early  life. 

The  dwellings  on  Elms  Farm  consist  of  the  house  with 
which  were  associated  all  his  earlier  and  more  precious 
recollections,  also  the  one  occupied  by  himself  during  his 
annual  sojourn  in  the  Granite  State,  and  the  one  occupied 
by  the  tenant  of  the  farm  ;  while  the  barns  and  other  out 
houses  number  about  a  dozen,  all  painted  white,  and  kept 
in  the  nicest  possible  order.  A  rail-road,  connecting  the 
Upper  Connecticut  River  with  Boston,  crosses  the  farm  in 
rather  a  picturesque  manner,  so  that  its  proprietor  could 
dine  among  the  mountains  and  partake  of  his  supper  some 
three  hours  later  in  the  capital  of  New  England.  It  was 
in  his  house  on  this  farm,  with  the  tombs  of  his  family  be 
fore  him  at  the  end  of  a  beautiful  field,  that  the  famous 
letter  to  Hilhemann  was  written.  Directly  in  front  of 
this  house  are  a  number  of  elm  and  maple  trees,  which 
were  planted  by  Mr.  Webster,  and  one  of  them,  especial 
ly,  was  transplanted  from  the  foot  of  a  neighboring  hill, 
where,  when  a  boy,  he  once  froze  his  feet  while  sliding  in 
the  snow. 

Mr.  Webster's  reputation  as  a  practical  agriculturist  was 
coextensive  with  his  native  state,  and  indeed  with  New 
England  ;  and  that  it  was  justly  so,  the  following  figures, 
obtained  from  the  tenant  of  Elms  Farm,  alone  will  prove. 
The  yield  of  the  farm  during  the  year  1851  was  estima 
ted  thus  :  of  English  hay,  one  hundred  and  forty  tons  ; 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  51 

of  potatoes,  consisting  of  five  varieties,  two  thousand  bush 
els  ;  of  sheep,  four  hundred  and  fifty ;  and  of  cattle,  one 
hundred.  One  yoke  of  oxen,  when  completely  dressed, 
weighed  twenty-nine  hundred  pounds,  and  were  sold  in 
the  Boston  market  at  seven  dollars  per  hundred. 

While  upon  his  visit  to  Elms  Farm  in  1851,  Mr.  Web 
ster's  tenant  had  about  twenty  men  in  his  employ  making 
hay.  On  one  occasion,  when  they  were  engaged  in  one 
field,  the  "  Lord  of  the  Manor"  went  forth  to  witness  their 
operations,  and  having  stood  for  some  time  in  silence,  the 
smell  of  the  hay  gave  new  life  to  the  blood  of  his  youth, 
and  taking  off  his  coat,  and  throwing  it  upon  the  ground, 
he  demanded  a  fork  and  went  to  work,  declaring  that  he 
could  "  pitch  more  hay  in  an  hour  than  any  man  in  the 
crowd."  And  he  verily  fulfilled  his  promise.  He  helped 
load  the  largest  wagon  no  less  than  three  times,  and  also 
performed  the  duties  of  wagon-boy  in  as  scientific  a  man 
ner,  too,  as  if  this  had  been  the  chief  business  of  his  life, 
instead  of  helping  to  manage  the  wheels  of  government, 
officiating  as  a  diplomatist,  or  delighting  a  listening  Senate 
with  his  eloquence. 

The.  following  story  was  related  by  Mr.  Webster  during 
a  conversation  the  writer  had  with  him  about  the  early 
history  of  New  Hampshire,  while  taking  a  morning  walk 
along  the  Merrimack  : 

Among  the  many  prisoners  who  were  taken  by  the  Cone- 
ivago  Indians  during  the  old  French  war  of  1756,  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  Elms  Farm,  and  sold  to  the  French 
in  Canada,  was  a  man  named  Peter  Bowen.  When  peace 
was  declared,  he  obtained  his  liberty  and  returned  to  his 


52  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

family,  who  resided  in  Boscawen.  In  the  year  1763,  two 
Indians  of  the  Conewago  tribe,  Sebat  and  his  son,  came 
from  the  borders  of  Canada  upon  a  visit  to  the  valley  of 
the  Merrimack,  and  happening  to  fall  into  the  company  of 
Bowen,  spent  the  night  with  him  for  old  acquaintance' 
sake,  and,  in  the  enthusiasm  brought  on  by  forest  recol 
lections,  the  party  went  through  the  performances  of  a 
drunken  frolic.  When  the  time  came  for  the  Indians  to 
return,  Bowen  accompanied  them  a  few  miles  on  their 
way,  when,  as  they  were  in  the  act  of  crossing  a  small 
stream  running  through  Elms  Farm,  and  now  known  as 
Indian  Brook/ the  white  man  suddenly  fell  upon  his  red 
friends,  shooting  one  and  killing  the  other  with  the  butt 
of  his  gun,  and  secreted  their  bodies  in  the  top  of  a  fallen 
tree. 

Weeks  passed  on,  and  it  was  rumored  far  and  near  that 
Sebat  and  his  son  had  been  murdered,  and  that  Bowen 
was  the  murderer.  The  inhabitants  of  the  Merrimack  val 
ley  were  well  acquainted  with  the  characteristic  code  of 
the  Indians,  demanding  blood  fov  blood,  and,  in  self-de 
fense,  thought  it  their  duty  to  have  Bowen  arrested  and 
punished.  He  was  arrested,  tried,  found  guilty,  and  con 
demned  to  be  hung,  and  this  intelligence  was  transmitted 
to  the  Conewago  Indians. 

During  the  imprisonment  of  Bowen,  however,  in  the 
jail  at  Exeter  (to  which  he  had  to  be  removed),  a  portion 
of  the  inhabitants  became  impressed  with  the  idea  that  no 
white  man  ought  to  be  hung  for  killing  an  Indian,  where 
upon  a  party  of  them,  disguised  as  Mohawk  Indians,  broke 
the  Exeter  jail  open  and  gave  Bowen  his  freedom,  and  he 


DANIKL     WEBSTER.  53 

lived  in  peace  on  his  farm  during  the  remainder  of  his 
days. 

When  Bowen  died,  he  left  his  farm  to  an  only  son,  who 
lived  quietly  upon  it  until  he  was  seventy  years  of  age, 
and  the  head  of  a  large  family.  The  story  of  his  father's 
wickedness  in  murdering  the  Indians,  though  it  occurred 
before  his  birth,  had  tinged  with  gloom  even  his  happier 
days,  and  now  the  thought  came  to  possess  his  mind 
that  he  must  atone  for  the  deed  committed  by  his  father. 
His  friends  remonstrated,  but  nothing  could  deter  him 
from  his  purpose.  He  parted  with  his  family  ;  many 
tears  were  shed  and  lamentations  uttered,  but  he  entered 
upon  his  line  of  march  for  Canada,  feeble  and  old,  and 
gave  himself  up  as  a  prisoner  to  the  Conewago  nation. 
The  Indians  were  astonished  at  this  instance  of  heroism, 
and,  instead  of  taking  blood  for  blood,  they  adopted  him 
as  a  chief  among  their  chiefs,  and  subsequently  permitted 
him  to  return  to  the  Merrimack  valley,  where  he  died  in 
the  midst  of  his  children. 

On  one  occasion,  some  years  ago,  when  Mr.  "Webster 
was  visited  at  Elms  Farm  by  some  two  or  three  hundred 
of  his  New  Hampshire  friends,  he  addressed  them,  as  was 
his  wont,  in  a  friendly  and  familiar  way,  giving  an  ac 
count,  as  it  were,  of  his  stewardship  in  the  capacity  of  a 
statesman.  He  stood  upon  the  porch  of  his  own  residence, 
and  in  full  view  of  the  family  burying-ground,  and  after 
reaffirming  the  opinions  he  had  long  entertained  upon  the 
prominent  questions  of  the  day,  he  concluded  his  remarks 
by  saying,  "And  before  changing  these  opinions,  fellow- 
citizens,  you  will  be  called  upon  to  convey  my  body  to 


54  PRIVATE     LTFE     OF 

yonder  grave-yard."  He  uttered  the  sentiment  while  la 
boring  under  the  deepest  emotion,  and  its  effect  upon  his 
audience  was  to  melt  them  to  tears. 

The  name  of  Mr.  Webster's  tenant  on  Elms  Farm  is 
John  Taylor.  He  was  transported  thither  about  twenty 
years  ago  from  the  region  of  Marshfield,  and  in  several 
particulars  he  is  a  great  man.  His  height  is  nearly  six 
feet  and  five  inches ;  he  has  a  heart  bigger  than  his  body, 
and  is  really  a  superb  specimen  of  American  yeomanry. 
But  his  reigning  peculiarity  was  his  attachment  to  his 
landlord.  When  the  latter  was  temporarily  ill  during  the 
summer  of  1851,  John  Taylor  watched  by  his  bedside  night 
after  night  without  closing  his  eyes,  performing  all  the 
delicate  duties  of  a  nurse  with  the  gentleness  of  a  woman. 
"  If  I  saw  a  bullet  coming  to  his  heart,"  said  he  to  the 
writer,  on  one  occasion,  "  I  would  jump  in  the  way  of  it, 
and  receive  it  myself ;"  and  when  told  that  this  was  very 
strong  language,  he  added,  "  I  know  it  is,  but  then  I 
should  be  certain  that  my  family  would  be  provided  for 
and  made  comfortable.  From  no  man  living  could  a 
greater  number  of  personal  anecdotes  be  obtained  calcu 
lated  to  illustrate  the  more  endearing  attributes  of  Mr. 
Webster's  heart;  how  he  was  with  him,  for  example, 
when  he  gave  an  old  man,  a  friend  of  his  father's,  money 
enough  to  buy  a  small  farm;  how  he  accompanied  him 
to  the  summit  of  a  hill,  one  summer  evening,  and  heard 
him  talk  in  the  most  affecting  manner,  as  he  sat  musing 
upon  the  spot  where  he  was  born,  while  his  eyes  were 
constantly  filling  with  tears ;  and  how,  on  many  occasions, 
he  had  descanted  to  him,  in  the  most  glowing  language, 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  55 

on  the  pleasures  of  farming,  contrasting  them  with  the 
trials  and  perplexities  of  a  public  life.  John  Taylor  is  also 
a  first-rate  farmer,  and  has  performed  as  great  an  amount 
of  hard  labor  as  any  other  man  in  the  Union,  and  is  de 
serving,  in  every  particular,  of  the  ardent  friendship  and 
unlimited  confidence  of  his  late  landlord. 

In  some  long  talks  that  the  writer  had  with  John  Tay 
lor  about  Mr.  "Webster,  much  was  said  about  his  knowl 
edge  of  farming ;  and  by  way  of  exhibiting  this,  the  fol 
lowing  familiar  letters,  selected  from  a  large  number  of 
like  character,  were  copied,  and  are  now  printed  from  the 
journals  in  which  they  originally  appeared,  before  the  re 
quest  of  the  literary  executors  had  been  made  known. 

"  Washington,  March  13th,  1852. 
"  JOHN  TAYLOR, 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  from  you  again,  and  to  learn  that 
you  are  all  well,  and  that  your  teams  and  tools  are  ready 
for  spring's  work,  whenever  the  weather  will  allow  you 
to  begin.  I  sometimes  read  books  on  farming  ;  and  I  re 
member  that  a  very  sensible  old  author  advises  farmers 
*  to  plow  naked  and  to  sow  naked.'  By  this  he  means 
that  there  is  no  use  in  beginning  spring's  work  till  the 
weather  is  warm,  that  a  farmer  may  throw  aside  his  win 
ter  clothes  and  roll  up  his  sleeves.  Yet  he  says  we  ought 
to  begin  as  early  in  the  year  as  possible.  He  wrote  some 
very  pretty  verses  on  this  subject,  which,  as  far  as  I  re 
member,  run  thus : 

"  '  While  yet  the  spring  is  young,  while  earth  unbinds 
The  frozen  bosom  to  the  western  winds ; 


56  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

While  mountain  snows  dissolve  against  the  sun, 
And  streams,  yet  new,  from  precipices  run — 
E'en  in  this  early  dawning  of  the  year, 
Produce  the  plow,  and  yoke  the  sturdy  steer ; 
And  goad  him  till  he  smoke  beneath  his  toil, 
And  the  bright  share  is  buried  in  the  soil.' 

"John  Taylor,  when  you  read  these  lines,  do  you  not  see 
the  snow  melting,  and  the  little  streams  beginning  to  run 
down  the  southern  slopes  of  your  Punch-brook  pasture,  and 
the  new  grass  starting  and  growing  in  the  trickling  water, 
all  green,  bright,  and  beautiful  ?  and  do  you  not  see  your 
Durham  oxen  smoking  from  heat  and  perspiration  as  they 
draw  along  your  great  breaking-up  plow,  cutting  and 
turning  over  the  tough  sward  in  your  meadow  in  the  great 
field  ?  The  name  of  this  sensible  author  is  Virgil ;  and 
he  gives  farmers  much  other  advice,  some  of  which  you 
have  been  following  all  this  winter  without  even  knowing 
that  he  had  given  it. 

" '  But  when  cold  weather,  heavy  snows,  and  rain, 
The  laboring  farmer  in  his  house  restrain, 
Let  him  forecast  his  work,  with  timely  care, 
Which  else  is  huddled  when  the  skies  are  fair ; 
Then  let  him  mark  the  sheep,  and  whet  the  shining  share, 
Or  hollow  trees  for  boats,  or  number  o'er 
His  sacks,  or  measure  his  increasing  store  ; 
Or  sharpen  stakes,  and  mend  each  rake  and  fork, 
So  to  be  ready,  in  good  time,  to  work — 
Visit  his  crowded  barns  at  early  morn, 
Look  to  his  granary,  and  shell  his  corn  ; 
Give  a  good  breakfast  to  his  numerous  kine, 
His  shivering  poultry,  and  his  fattening  swine.' 

"And  Mr.  Virgil  says  some  other  things,  which  you  un 
derstand  up  at  Franklin  as  well  as  ever  he  did : 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  57 

"  '  111  chilling  winter,  swains  enjoy  their  store, 
Forget  their  hardships,  and  recruit  for  more  ; 
The  farmer  to  full  feasts  invites  his  friends, 
And  what  he  got  with  pains,  with  pleasure  spends  ; 
Draws  chairs  around  the  fire,  and  tells,  once  more, 
Stories  which  often  have  heen  told  before  ; 
Spreads  a  clean  table  with  things  good  to  eat, 
And  adds  some  moistening  to  his  fruit  and  meat ; 
They  praise  his  hospitality,  and  feel 
They  shall  sleep  better  after  such  a  meal.' 

"John  Taylor,  by  the  time  you  have  got  through  this; 
you  will  have  read  enough.  The  sum  of  all  is,  be  ready 
for  your  spring's  work  as  soon  as  the  weather  becomes 
warm  enough,  and  then  put  your  hand  to  the  plow,  and 
look  not  back.  DANIEL  WEBSTER." 


"Washington,  March  17th,  1852. 
"  JOHN  TAYLOR, 

"  Gro  ahead.  The  heart  of  the  winter  is  broke,  and  be 
fore  the  first  day  of  April  all  your  land  may  be  plowed. 
Buy  the  oxen  of  Captain  Marston,  if  you  think  the  price 
fair.  Pay  for  the  hay.  I  send  you  a  check  for  $160,  for 
these  two  objects.  Put  the  great  oxen  in  a  condition  to 
be  turned  out  and  fattened.  You  have  a  good  horse-team, 
and  I  think,  in  addition  to  this,  four  oxen  and  a  pair  of 
four-year-old  steers  will  do  your  work.  If  you  think  so, 
then  dispose  of  the  Stevens  oxen,  or  unyoke  them,  and 
send  them  to  the  pasture,  for  beef.  I  know  not  when  I 
shall  see  you,  but  I  hope  before  planting.  If  you  need 
any  thing,  such  as  guano,  for  instance,  write  to  Joseph 
Buck,  Esq.,  Boston,  and  he  will  send  it  to  you.  "What 
ever  ground  you  sow  or  plant,  see  that  it  is  in  good  con- 

C2 


58  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

dition.  We  want  no  pennyroyal  crops.  '  A  little  farm 
well  tilled,'  is  to  a  farmer  the  next  "best  thing  to  *  a  little 
wife  well  willed.'  Cultivate  your  garden.  Be  sure  to 
produce  sufficient  quantities  of  useful  vegetables.  A  man 
may  half  support  his  family  from  a  good  garden.  Take 
care  to  keep  my  mother's  garden  in  good  order,  even  if  it 
cost  you  the  wages  of  a  man  to  take  care  of  it.  I  have 
sent  you  many  garden  seeds.  Distribute  them  among 
your  neighbors.  Send  them  to  the  stores  in  the  village, 
that  every  body  may  have  a  part  of  them  without  cost. 
I  am  glad  that  you  have  chosen  Mr.  Pike  representative. 
He  is  a  true  man  ;  but  there  are  in  New  Hampshire  many 
persons  who  call  themselves  Whigs,  who  are  no  Whigs  at 
all,  and  no  better  than  disunionists.  Any  man  who  hes 
itates  in  granting  and  securing  to  every  part  of  the  coun 
try  its  just  and  constitutional  rights,  is  an  enemy  to  the 
whole  country.  John  Taylor  !  if  one  of  your  boys  should 
say  that  he  honors  his  father  and  mother,  and  loves  his 
brothers  and  sisters,  but  still  insists  that  one  of  them  shall 
be  driven  out  of  the  family,  what  can  you  say  of  him  but 
this,  that  there  is  no  real  family  love  in  him  ?  You  and 
I  are  farmers  ;  we  never  talk  politics — our  talk  is  of  oxen  ; 
but  remember  this :  that  any  man  who  attempts  to  ex 
cite  one  part  of  this  country  against  another,  is  just  as 
wicked  as  he  would  be  who  should  attempt  to  get  up  a 
quarrel  between  John  Taylor  and  his  neighbor,  old  Mr. 
John  Sanborn,  or  his  other  neighbor,  Captain  Burleigh. 
There  are  some  animals  that  live  best  in  the  fire  ;  and 
there  are  some  men  who  delight  in  heat,  smoke,  combus 
tion,  and  even  general  conflagration.  They  do  not  follow 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  59 

the  things  which  make  for  peace.  They  enjoy  only  con 
troversy,  contention,  and  strife.  Have  no  communion  with 
such  persons,  either  as  neighbors  or  politicians.  You  have 
no  more  right  to  say  that  slavery  ought  not  to  exist  in 
Virginia,  than  a  Virginian  has  to  say  that  slavery  ought 
to  exist  in  New  Hampshire.  This  is  a  question  left  to 
every  state  to  decide  for  itself;  and  if  we  mean  to  keep 
the  states  together,  we  must  leave  to  every  state  this  pow 
er  of  deciding  for  itself.  I  think  I  never  wrote  you  a  word 
before  upon  politics.  I  shall  not  do  it  again.  I  only  say 
love  your  country,  and  your  whole  country ;  and  when 
men  attempt  to  persuade  you  to  get  into  a  quarrel  with 
the  laws  of  other  states,  tell  them  '  that  you  mean  to  mind 
your  own  business,'  and  advise  them  to  mind  theirs.  John 
Taylor,  you  are  a  free  man  ;  you  possess  good  principles  ; 
you  have  a  large  family  to  rear  and  provide  for  by  your 
labor.  Be  thankful  to  the  government  which  does  not  op 
press  you,  which  does  not  bear  you  down  by  excessive 
taxation,  but  which  holds  out  to  you  and  to  yours  the 
hope  of  all  the  blessings  which  liberty,  industry,  and  se 
curity  may  give.  John  Taylor,  thank  (rod,  morning  and 
evening,  that  you  were  born  in  such  a  country.  John 
Taylor  !  never  write  me  another  word  upon  politics.  Give 
my  kindest  remembrance  to  your  wife  and  children  ;  and 
when  you  look  from  your  eastern  windows  upon  the  graves 
of  my  family,  remember  that  he  who  is  the  author  of  this 
letter  must  soon  follow  them  to  another  world. 

"  DANIEL  WEBSTER." 

Mr.  Webster  was  often  heard  to  say  that  he  never  en- 


60  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

joyed  himself  to  such  perfection  in  any  place  whatsoever, 
as  when  spending  a  few  weeks  at  midsummer  upon  his 
New  Hampshire  farm.  The  associations  of  his  birth-place 
and  boyhood  seem  to  have  had  an  iron  grasp  upon  his  af 
fections,  which  even  the  important  duties  and  high  aspira 
tions  of  the  statesman  could  not  cloy  or  render  insipid. 
And  when  there,  he  visited,  and  was  visited  by,  his  stur 
dy  and  very  worthy  neighbors  without  any  ceremony. 
Throughout  the  whole  region  was  he  spoken  of  as  "  the 
squire"  and,  while  the  nation  and  the  world  admired  him 
for  his  intellect,  his  rustic  friends  loved  him  for  the  good 
ness  of  his  heart.  Many  called  upon  him  simply  to  shake 
him  by  the  hand  and  inquire  after  his  health  ;  some  came 
to  consult  him  on  topics  connected  with  agriculture  ;  and 
others,  in  the  simplicity  of  their  hearts,  thought  it  per 
fectly  proper  to  consult  him  in  regard  to  their  petty  law 
suits  ;  and  he  ever  treated  them,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
with  the  utmost  kindness,  helping  them  out  of  their  trou 
bles  "  without  money  and  without  pricer"  To  those  who 
have  been  in  the  habit  of  paying  him  retaining  fees  of 
five  thousand  dollars  or  more,  such  conduct  on  the  part 
of  Mr.  Webster  must  indeed  appear  strange. 

The  last  time  Mr.  Webster  visited  Elms  Farm,  which 
was  in  July  last,  the  writer  was  his  only  companion.  All 
along  the  rail-road,  on  our  way  from  Boston  to  the  mount 
ains,  groups  and  crowds  of  people  were  assembled  to  wel 
come  him  to  his  native  state  ;  but  this  had  for  so  long  a 
time  been  a  consequence  of  his  annual  visits  to  Elms  Farm, 
that  he  was  therefore  not  taken  by  surprise.  At  Concord 
he  heard  the  particulars  of  an  accident  which  had  hap- 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  61 

pened  to  his  man  John  Taylor,  and  when  told  that  his  life 
was  in  danger,  he  was  sadly  distressed,  and  manifested 
great  impatience  to  reach  home.  On  alighting  from  the 
cars  and  stepping  upon  his  threshold,  he  only  took  time 
to  cast  one  loving  look  at  his  noble  rows  of  elms  and  broad 
fields  just  ready  for  the  scythe,  before  he  went  to  visit  his 
tenant.  Though  he  found  his  yeoman  friend  suffering 
from  a  dislocated  shoulder,  a  dreadfully  bruised  breast, 
and  a  fearful  gash  in  his  thigh,  some  seven  inches  long, 
yet  the  doctor  had  declared  him  out  of  danger.  "With  this 
news  Mr.  Webster  was,  of  course,  delighted.  Before  he 
left  Boston  he  had  heard  of  the  accident,  but  no  particu 
lars  ;  and  as  he  did  not  apprehend  any  danger,  his  first 
thought  was,  "  What  shall  I  take  John  Taylor  as  a  pres 
ent  ?"  which  question  he  answered  by  bringing  him  a 
basket  of  grapes  and  a  fresh  salmon.  The  present  was 
fit  for  a  king,  but  John  Taylor  deserved  it. 

The  accident  alluded  to  was  caused  by  an  angry  bull, 
who  turned  upon  his  keeper  in  a  fit  of  causeless  anger, 
and  not  only  tossed  him  high  into  the  air  with  his  horns, 
but  trampled  him  under  his  feet.  It  is  a  wonder  the  man 
was  not  killed.  What  saved  him  was  the  presence  of 
mind  which  he  manifested  in  seizing  and  holding  on  to  a 
ring  in  the  bull's  nose.  In  spite  of  his  wickedness,  this 
animal  deserves  a  passing  notice  in  this  connection,  as  he 
was  a  very  great  favorite  with  his  owner.  He  was  pre 
sented  to  Mr.  Webster  by  his  devoted  friend,  Roswell  L. 
Colt,  Esq.,  of  New  Jersey,  and  he  is  of  what  is  called  the 
Hungarian  breed.  He  is  a  magnificent  creature,  quite 
young,  weighs  some  two  thousand  pounds,  of  a  beautiful 


62  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

mouse  or  slate  color,  and  has  a  neck  which  measures  more 
than  six  feet  in  circumference.  John  Taylor's  account 
of  the  attack  upon  himself,  and  of  other  exploits  of  the 
bull,  was  very  amusing ;  and  when  asked  by  Mr.  Webster 
if  he  really  thought  the  animal  dangerous  and  ought  to  be 
chained,  he  replied,  "  Why,  he  is  no  more  fit  to  go  abroad 
than  your  friend  Governor  Kossuth  himself."  "  Rather 
strong  language  this,"  replied  Mr.  Webster  ;  "  but  when 
a  man  has  been  gored  almost  to  death  by  a  Hungarian 
bull,  it  is  not  strange  that  he  should  be  severe  upon  the 
Hungarian  governor." 

A  short  time  before  we  left  Boston  for  Elms  Farm,  Mr. 
Webster  directed  the  writer  to  go  to  a  book-store  and 
purchase  some  forty  or  fifty  volumes  of  late  English  books 
for  his  use  at  the  farm.  He  left  the  selection  entirely  to 
the  purchaser,  and  he  was,  of  course,  much  gratified  to 
know  that  his  judgment  in  this  rather  delicate  commission 
was  fully  approved.  The  collection  consisted  of  one  or 
two  odd  dictionaries,  works  on  natural  history,  books  of 
travel,  a  little  history,  and  several  volumes  of  correspond 
ence,  but  not  a  fragment  on  politics. 

A  number  of  reviews  were  also  sent  up  by  the  book 
sellers,  containing  elaborate  articles  about  himself,  and 
the  complete  edition  of  his  works.  When  he  found  him 
at  leisure,  the  writer  handed  him  these,  but  he  would 
not  look  at  them.  The  writer  then  told  him  that  they 
were  well  written,  and  an  offer  was  made  to  read  some  of 
them  aloud,  but  he  would  not  consent.  The  reasons  that 
he  gave  for  declining  even  to  know  what  had  been  said 
wero,  that  such  things  w^ro  not  at  all  interesting  to  him; 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  63 

that  he  had  done  his  best  through  life,  and  that  this  con 
sciousness,  was  more  comforting  to  him  than  the  good 
opinions  of  those  who  knew  him  not ;  that  he  was  getting 
to  he  an  old  man ;  that  his  candle  of  life  was  already  in 
the  socket ;  and  that  to  one  just  entering  life  these  things 
might  he  pleasant,  but  he  was  going  off  the  stage,  and 
had  no  taste  for  them ;  that  if  any  body  should  misrepre 
sent  him  in  regard  to  facts,  and  he  heard  of  it,  he  would 
set  them  right,  but  good  opinions  were  of  very  little  in 
terest  or  real  value  to  him. 

And  here  the  writer  would  record  what  he  deems  the 
effect,  upon  Mr.  Webster,  of  the  Baltimore  "Whig  nomina 
tion  for  President.  He  was,  indeed,  by  far  the  greatest 
of  all  the  candidates  brought  forward  by  his  party,  and 
though  his  defeat  must  have  caused  some  disappointment, 
he  never  for  a  single  moment  manifested  any  regret.  He 
told  the  writer,  on  one  occasion,  that  his  friends  had  done 
all  they  could  do  for  him,  and  he  was  satisfied ;  and  then 
added,  with  a  tremulous  voice  and  tears  in  his  eyes, 
"  Thank  God,  one  thing  is  certain,  they  could  not  take 
away  from  me  what  I  have  done  for  my  country!"  Of 
both  the  gentlemen  who  were  nominated,  the  writer  has 
heard  him  speak  in  terms  of  praise.  Of  General  Scott,  as 
a  military  man,  he  spoke  in  the  highest  terms,  and  said 
that  Congress  ought  long  ago  to  have  made  him  a  lieu 
tenant  general.  G-eneral  Pierce,  he  said,  he  had  known 
from  boyhood,  and  all  his  family,  and  in  spite  of  some  hard 
things  which  "  Frank"  (for  so  he  designated  him)  had  ut 
tered  against  him  some  years  ago,  he  was  compelled  to 
like  him,  to  think  him  a  good  fellow,  a  smarter  man  than 


64  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

people  thought  him  to  be,  and  wished  him  all  prosperity. 
He  was  undoubtedly  far  more  cheerful  and  happy  after 
the  nomination  than  he  had  been  immediately  before. 
With  the  convention  alluded  to  terminated  all  his  anxie 
ties,  and  it  is  certain  that  he  had  of  late  been  more  anxious 
about  quietly  and  faithfully  performing  his  duties,  both 
private  and  public,  and  preparing  for  the  future,  than  about 
any  thing  else  connected  with  this  world. 

Many  were  the  delightful  rides  which  the  writer  had 
the  happiness  to  enjoy  with  Mr.  Webster  along  the  Mer- 
rimack  Valley,  and  around  and  over  the  picturesque  hills 
of  his  native  Salisbury  ;  and  it  is  with  unfeigned  pleas 
ure  that  the  writer  remembers  the  fact  that  he  was  with 
him  when  he  took  his  last  ride  over  his  farm,  and  visited 
for  the  last  time  the  place  of  his  birth.  It  was  after  a 
night  of  showers  and  a  most  charming  day,  we  went  in 
an  easy  double  carriage,  and  the  writer  held  the  reins. 
He  was  personally  acquainted  with  almost  every  body  we 
met,  and  not  only  did  he  stop  and  exchange  a  word  of 
kindness  with  his  old  friends,  but  he  also  bade  me  pull  up 
the  horses  whenever  he  met  a  party  of  little  children  go 
ing  to  school  or  gathering  berries,  so  that  he  might  loving 
ly  inquire  their  names  and  ask  after  their  parents.  He 
was  in  fine  spirits,  and  seemed  to  be  delighted  with  the 
singing  of  the  birds,  which  positively  seemed  anxious  to 
manifest  their  gladness  at  his  presence.  But  alas  !  those 
sweet  and  much-loved  sounds  will  never  again  greet  his 
ear.  He  looked  with  a  critical  eye  upon  all  the  fields 
and  gardens,  and  every  bit  of  scenery  that  we  saw,  fit  for 
a  picture,  he  expatiated  upon  most  eloquently. 


DANIEL     WEBSTER. 

We  rode  through  a  part  of  the  village  of  Boscawen,  and 
he  pointed  out  the  spot  where  he  went  to  school  in  his 
fourteenth  year,  and  where  he  subsequently  first  became 
acquainted  with  Grace  Fletcher  (his  first  wife),  whom  he 
mentioned  at  that  time,  and  always  mentioned,  as  the 
"  mother  of  his  children."  To  her  he  was  married  in.  the 
summer  of  1807,  and  she  died  in  the  city  of  New  York  in 
1827.  The  visit  to  the  spot  of  his  birth  was  pleasant  but 
mournful.  We  drank  a  cup  of  water  together  out  of  the 
old  well,  and  it  was  with  subdued  feelings  that  he  walk 
ed  over  the  sod  where  he  sported  in  childhood,  and  talked 
in  the  most  affectionate  manner  of  the  olden  times.  As 
the  writer  has  elsewhere  remarked,  the  house  in  which  he 
was  born  is  not  now  standing,  and  it  is  due  to  the  writer 
to  state  that  the  only  authentic  view  of  that  house  with 
the  neighboring  elm  and  well  is  the  one  which  the  writer 
drew,  while  Mr.  Webster  was  bending  over  his  shoulder, 
and  an  engraving  from  which  embellishes  this  volume. 
The  engraving  which  was  published  in  the  six-volume 
edition  of  his  works  represents  the  property  adjoining 
that  of  the  real  birth-place,  and  was  engraved  by  mistake, 
or,  at  any  rate,  without  Mr.  Webster's  sanction.  The  au 
thentic  drawing  was  given  to  the  engraver,  but  he  strange 
ly  thought  proper  to  substitute  the  handsome  but  false 
picture  for  the  homely  but  accurate  one. 

Another  place  that  we  visited  was  the  Big  Pasture,  so 
called,  which  belonged  to  Mr.  Webster,  and  where  he  was 
then  keeping  about  one  hundred  head  of  splendid  cattle. 
The  pasture  contained  nearly  four  hundred  acres,  and  from 
the  highest  point  there  is  a  fine  prospect  of  the  White 


66  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

Mountains.  To  see  Mr.  Webster  in  his  regular  farming 
suit,  and  with  his  white  slouched  hat  on  his  head  and  a 
stick  in  his  hand,  walking  among  his  cattle,  which  were 
collected  together  for  his  inspection,  was  indeed  an  inter- 
\  esting  and  beautiful  sight.  A  stranger  would  have  taken 
I  him  for  a. stalwart  drover  or  butcher  selling  or  purchasing 
stock  ;  while  in  reality  he  was  the  master-mind  of  the 
world.  The  writer  was  also  privileged  to  wet  a  line  for 
trout,  while  Mr.  Webster  sat  in  his  carriage  and  looked  on, 
in  Punch-brook,  upon  which  are  located  both  the  birth 
place  and  the  Big  Pasture,  and  which  empties  into  the 
Merrimack  at  Elms  Farm. 

We  also  took  a  drive  around  Lake  Como,  which  is  a 
beautiful  sheet  of  pure  water,  distant  from  the  farm  some 
three  miles,  about  two  miles  long,  and  surrounded  with 
a  handsomely-cultivated  country.  The  lake  abounds  in 
perch  and  pike ;  and,  of  course,  Mr.  Webster  ever  had  a 
fish-house  there,  and  a  boat  in  which  he  was  accustomed 
to  enjoy,  and  permit  his  friends  to  enjoy,  the  pleasant  rec 
reation  of  angling.  On  the  borders  of  this  lake  we  halted 
before  a  nice  country  house,  flanked  by  a  noble  farm,  when 
Mr.  Webster  sent  in  for  its  master;  and  on  his  appear 
ance,  introduced  him  to  the  writer  as  his  "very  worthy 
nephew^  The  person  thus  introduced  was  a  tall,  thin 
man,  who  looked  as  if  nature  had  formed  him  of  its  tough 
est  sinews,  and  browned  him  with  the  hues  of  the  most 
substantial  health.  The  nephew  returned  the  civilities 
of  his  distinguished  uncle  in  a  plain,  blunt  manner,  but 
with  affection  ;  and  little  did  he  believe  that  the  mere  fact 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  67 

of  his  being  thus  connected  would  elevate  him,  in  many 
parts  of  the  country,  into  a  decided  lion. 

We  also  visited  the  junction  of  those  two  mountain 
streams  which  form  the  Merrimack.  The  scenery  at  this 
point  is  wild  and  romantic  ;  and  as  the  immediate  banks 
of  the  main  river  as  you  descend  are  rank  with  vegeta 
tion,  and  all  the  interval  lands  highly  cultivated,  and  the 
residences  of  the  farmers  all  neat  and  comfortable,  a  ride 
of  half  a  dozen  miles  down  the  river  is  indescribably  beau 
tiful;  and  when  enjoyed  with  such  a  companion,  who  rec 
ognized  an  old  friend  in  every  tree  and  stone,  the  reader 
may  well  imagine  that  the  pleasure  was  unalloyed.  By 
the  writer  it  can  certainly  never  be  forgotten. 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF     DANIEL     WEBSTER.  69 


MARSHFIELD. 

THE  birth-place  and  mountain  farm  of  Mr.  Webster 
having  already  been  described  in  this  volume,  the  writer 
would  now  give  an  account  of  Marshfield,  the  home,  pre 
eminently,  of  the  distinguished  statesman.  The  place 
thus  designated  is  in  the  town  of  Marshfield,  county  of 
Plymouth,  and  State  of  Massachusetts.  It  is  more  of  a 
magnificent  farm,  with  elegant  appendages,  than  the  mere 
elegant  residence  of  a  gentleman;  a  place,  indeed,  which, 
if  in  England,  could  hardly  be  described  without  frequent 
use  of  the  word  baronial.  It  lies  some  thirty  miles  from 
Boston,  comprehends  about  two  thousand  acres  of  undu 
lating  and  marshy  land,  and  slopes  down  to  the  margin 
of  the  ocean.  The  original  owners  of  the  land,  now  com 
bined  into  one  estate,  were  Nathaniel  Ray  Thomas,  a 
noted  Loyalist,  who  was  the  hero  of  Trumbull's  poem  of 
M'Fingal,  and  the  famous  Winslow  family,  which  has 
given  to  Massachusetts,  as  colony  and  state,  a  number  of 
her  early  governors.  It  came  into  Mr.  "Webster's  posses 
sion  somewhere  about  twenty-five  years  ago,  and  is  the 
domain  where  he  chiefly  gratified  his  taste  for,  and  exhib 
ited  his  knowledge  of,  the  interesting  science  of  agricul 
ture.  The  great  good  that  he  here  accomplished  in  that 
particular  can  hardly  be  estimated ;  but  for  all  the  pains 
and  trouble  which  the  place  has  cost  him,  the  proprietor 


70  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

was  amply  rewarded  by  the  fact  that  he  was  the  owner 
of  one  of  the  very  best  farms  in  the  whole  country. 

Like  Elms  Farm,  Marshfield  has  also  its  tenant  or  su 
perintendent,  whose  name  is  Porter  Wright,  and  who,  in 
all  particulars,  is  amply  qualified  for  his  responsible  posi 
tion.  From  him  we  gathered  the  information  that  when 
Mr.  Webster  came  to  Marshfield  the  farm  yielded  only 
some  fifteen  tons  of  English  hay,  while  the  product  in 
this  particular,  during  the  year  1851,  amounted  to  nearly 
four  hundred  tons,  in  addition  to  two  hundred  tons  of  salt 
hay ;  also,  of  corn  eight  hundred  bushels,  potatoes  one 
thousand  bushels,  oats  five  hundred  bushels,  turnips  five 
hundred  bushels,  and  beets  four  hundred  bushels.  In 
1825,  the  inhabitants  of  Plymouth  county  knew  nothing 
of  kelp  and  sea-weed  as  articles  that  would  enrich  their 
lands  ;  but  Mr.  Webster  discovered  their  value,  set  the  ex 
ample  of  using  them,  profited  thereby,  and  they  are  now 
considered  so  indispensable  that  some  of  the  farmers  in  the 
country  will  team  it  a  distance  of  thirty  miles.  Princi 
pally  at  his  own  expense,  Mr.  Webster  laid  out  a  road  to 
the  beach  on  which  the  kelp  was  thrown  by  the  sea ;  and 
not  a  single  ton  of  the  article  is  known  to  have  been  drawn 
on  land  before  he  went  to  Marshfield.  In  October  of  last 
year,  one  hundred  and  fifty  teams  were  employed  after  a 
storm  in  drawing  this  rich  manure  on  to  the  estates  ad 
joining  Marshfield,  exclusive  of  those  engaged  by  Mr.  Por 
ter  Wright.  And  some  of  Mr.  Webster's  neighbors  allege 
that  they  could  well  afford  to  give  him  five  tons  of  hay  a 
year  for  having  taught  them  the  use  of  ocean  manure.  In 
olden  times,  too,  it  was  but  precious  seldom  that  the  trav- 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  71 

eler's  eye  fell  upon  any  but  a  wood-colored  house  in  the 
vicinity  of  Marshfield  Farm,  while  now  neatly-painted 
dwellings  may  he  seen  in  every  direction,  and  many  of 
their  occupants  acknowledge  that  Mr.  Webster  not  only 
helped  them  to  make  money  by  giving  them  employment, 
but  also  taught  them  how  to  make  themselves  comforta 
ble.  Some  of  them,  indeed,  go  so  far  as  to  say,  that  if  the 
town  of  Marshfield  had  made  Mr.  Webster  a  present  of 
thirty  thousand  dollars,  they  would  only  have  rendered  an 
adequate  return  for  his  agricultural  services.  He  not  only 
Caught  them  how  to  enrich  their  soils,  but  in  stocking  his 
own  farm  with  the  very  best  of  blooded  cattle,  he  also, 
with  a  liberal  hand,  scattered  them  upon  the  farms  of  his 
neighbors. 

Indeed,  the  raising  of  fine  cattle  was  Mr.  Webster's  ag 
ricultural  hobby,  and  it  was  a  rare  treat  to  take  a  walk 
with  him  over  his  grazing  fields,  or  through  the  spacious 
yards  adjoining  his  overflowing  barns,  and  to  hear  him 
descant  upon  the  goodness  and  beauty  of  his  Alderney 
cows,  with  their  gazelle  eyes,  or  the  brilliant  color  of  his 
Devon  oxen,  and  contrasting  their  excellences  with  those 
which  distinguish  the  breeds  of  Hertfordshire  and  Ayrshire. 
A  better,  judge  of  cattle  than  he  was  not  to  be  found  any 
where  ;  and  though  his  stables  were  abundantly  supplied 
with  horses,  for  these  he  entertained  no  uncommon  attach 
ment  ;  but  then,  again,  for  sheep  and  swine  he  had  a  par 
tiality.  Of  the  latter  animal  he  once  raised  a  single  litter 
of  twelve,  which  were  all  entirely  white,  and  when  killed 
averaged  in  weight  no  less  than  four  hundred  pounds. 
And  those  who  have  a  passion  for  the  oddities  of  the  quad- 


72  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

ruped  world,  might,  by  taking  a  short  walk  into  a  partic 
ular  field,  have  a  sight  of __several_South.  American  lamas, 
which  helped  to  give  a  romantic  character  to  the  farm. 
And  when  the  reader  comes  to  add  to  the  foregoing  three 
varieties  of  geese,  ducks  of  all  kinds,  domesticated  in  this 
country,  Guinea  hens,  peacocks,  and  Chinese  poultry  to 
an  almost  unlimited  extent,  he  may  well  imagine  that  the 
living  animals  of  Marshfield  compose  a  "  cattle  show"  of 
no  common  order. 

The  mind  that  had  the  good  sense  to  enrich  Marshfield 
Farm  with  so  much  of  the  useful  and  interesting  also  cov 
ered  it  with  the  results  of  the  most  refined  taste.  The  flow 
er-garden,  for  example,  covers  nearly  an  acre  of  ground, 
and  contains  the  richest  and  most  beautiful  varieties  of 
plants  peculiar  to  the  country.  Of  forest  trees,  too,  there 
is  a  multitudinous  array,  of  every  size  and  every  variety ; 
and  it  has  been  estimated  that  at  least  one  hundred  thou 
sand  of  them  have  grown  to  their  present  size  from  seeds 
planted  by  Mr.  Webster's  own  hands  ;  for,  as  he  has  often 
said,  when  he  originally  came  to  Marshfield,  he  was  too 
poor  a  man  to  think  of  patronizing  such  establishments  as 
nurseries,  even  if  they  had  existed  to  any  extent.  Of  fruit- 
trees  there  is  also  an  extensive  collection ;  and  while  one 
orchard  contains  some  three  hundred  trees,  that  remind 
one  of  the  Pilgrim  fathers,  so  weather-beaten  and  worn  in 
their  attire  are  they,  another,  of  a  thousand  trees,  presents 
the  appearance  of  an  army  of  youthful  warriors ;  and  then 
the  farm  is  so  appropriately  intersected  with  roads  and 
avenues,  gravelly  walks  and  shady  pathways,  that  every 
thing  which  the  visitor  notices  seems  to  be  in  exactly  the 


DANIEL    WEBSTER.  73 

right  place,  and  is  so  completely  come-at-able  that  the 
idea  of  being  fatigued  never  enters  the  mind ;  and  how 
pre-eminently  was  this  the  case  when  the  visitor  was  ac 
companied  in  his  walks  by  the  ruling  spirit  of  that  place 
as  well  as  of  the  country  itself.  But  the  value  and  picto 
rial  beauty  of  Marshfield  are  greatly  enhanced  by  the  ex 
istence,  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  mansion,  of  a  trio 
of  little  lakes,  all  of  them  fed  by  springs  of  the  purest 
water.  The  two  smaller  ones  are  the  favorite  haunts  of 
the  common  geese  and  the  duck  tribes ;  but  the  larger 
one,  which  studs  the  landscape  very  charmingly,  is  the 
exclusive  domain  of  a  large  flock  of  wild  geese  which  Mr. 
Webster  had  domesticated.  He  informed  the  writer  that 
his  first  attempts  to  tame  these  beautiful  creatures  were 
all  unsuccessful,  until  the  idea  occurred  to  him  that  per 
haps  they  might  be  made  contented  with  their  civilized 
abode,  provided  they  could  have  awarded  to  them  small 
sedgy  islands,  such  as  were  found  at  their  breeding-places 
in  the  far  north,  where  they  might  make  their  nests  and 
remain  undisturbed  by  the  fox  and  other  prowling  ani 
mals.  The  experiment  was  tried ;  and  while  the  geese 
were  rendered  contented  with  their  lot,  the  lake  itself  has 
been  greatly  improved  in  picturesque  beauty  by  its  wild 
yet  artificial  islands.  Indeed,  the  rural  scenery  of  Marsh- 
field  is  all  that  could  be  desired  by  the  painter  or  poet ; 
but  when  they  come  to  add  thereto  an  immense  expanse 
of  marsh  land,  veined  with  silver  streams,  dotted  with  isl 
ands  of  unbroken  forest,  skirted  with  a  far-reaching  beach, 
and  bounded  by  the  blue  ocean,  they  can  not  but  be  deep 
ly  impressed  with  the  magnificence  of  its  scenery. 

D 


74  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

It  now  becomes  necessary  to  mention  the  buildings  of 
Marshfield  Farm.     They  number  some  two  or  three  dozen, 
at  the  least  calculation,  embracing  the  mansion  and  adjoin 
ing  out-houses,  the  residence  of  the  chief  tenant,  the  dairy 
man's  cottage,  the  fisherman's  house,  the  landlord's  agri 
cultural  office,  several  large  barns,  the  gardener's  house, 
and  a  variety  of  subordinate  buildings.     But  the  chief  at 
traction  is  the  mansion  itself ;  the  main  part  of  it  was  built 
in  1774,  but  it  has  been  more  than  doubled  in  size  since 
then,  and  now  appears  like  a  modern  establishment.     It 
stands  upon  the  summit  of  a  grassy  lawn,  is  partly  over 
shadowed  by  a  stupendous  elm,  and  is  completely  surround 
ed  with  a  piazza.     The  ground  floor  alone  contains  no  less 
than  nine  handsomely  furnished  rooms,  all  opening  into 
each  other,  the  largest  and  most  westerly  one  being  a  Groth- 
ic  library.     Pictures,  pieces  of  statuary,  choice  engravings, 
and  curiosities  of  every  description,  are  displayed  in  the 
greatest  profusion,  and  the  feminine  taste  every  where  man 
ifested  gives  a  peculiar  interest  to  the  whole  establishment. 
Among  the  more  prominent  art  attractions  are  portraits  of 
Mr.  Webster,  by  Stuart  and  Healey  ;  one  of  Lord  Ashbur- 
ton,  by  Healey;  one  of  Judge  Story,  by  Harding;  portraits 
of  Fletcher  Webster  and  wife  ;  one  of  the  late  Edward 
Webster  ;  a  Roman  girl,  by  Alexander ;  cattle  pieces,  by 
Fisher ;  marble  busts  of  Mr.  Webster  himself  and  of  Mr. 
Prescott,  and  a  bust  and  very  beautiful  crayon  drawing  of 
"  Julia,"  the  late  Mrs.  Appleton.     The  last-mentioned  por 
trait  took  a  most  powerful  hold  upon  the  writer's  imagin 
ation  from  the  moment  he  first  beheld  it ;  and  this  im 
pression  was  greatly  strengthened  by  discovering  that  the 


DANIEL    WEBSTER.  75 

spirit  of  this  departed  daughter,  and  most  lovely,  gifted, 
and  accomplished  woman,  seemed  to  pervade  the  entire 
dwelling,  where  she  had  been  the  joy  of  many  hearts.  To 
her  was  Mr.  Webster  indebted  for  his  library,  as  it  now 
appears,  for  it  was  built  after  her  own  design  ;  and  a  more 
delightful  place,  especially  when  Mr.  "Webster  was  pres 
ent,  seated  in  his  arm-chair,  and  in  a  talkative  mood,  could 
not  be  easily  imagined.  Mr.  Webster's  entire  collection 
of  books  has  been  valued  at  forty  thousand  dollars ;  but 
his  law  library  is  in  Boston ;  his  agricultural  and  natural 
history  library  in  a  small  office  building,  situated  in  one 
corner  of  the  Marshfield  garden  ;  while  the  miscellaneous 
library  is  alone  collected  in  the  Gothic  library  hall.  But 
the  works  here  found  are  all  of  a  standard  and  substantial 
character,  as  the  following  specimens  will  show  ;  for  here 
are  to  be  seen  Audubon's  Birds  of  America;  the  Encyclo 
paedia  Britannica ;  the  best  editions  of  Bacon,  Washing 
ton,  and  Franklin ;  all  the  dictionaries  that  were  ever 
heard  of ;  every  thing  good  in  the  way  of  history  and  po 
etry,  together  with  an  extensive  sprinkling  of  the  old  di 
vines.  And  so  much  for  a  general  description  of  Marsh- 
field. 

Of  the  many  choice  relics  which  adorn  the  mansion  at 
Marshfield,  there  is  not  one  that  Mr.  Webster  valued  more 
highly,  or  descanted  upon  with  more  feeling  and  affection 
than  a  small  profile,  cut  in  black,  and  handsomely  framed, 
which  is  thus  described  in  his  own  writing : 

"MY    EXCELLENT     MOTHER." 
^/S/V«*W. 

.  W." 


76  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

The  likeness  is  that  of  a  highly  intellectual  person,  and 
bears  a  striking  resemblance  to  Mr.  Webster. 

Directly  in  front  of  the  Marshfield  mansion,  in  a  sunny 
and  pleasant  locality,  are  two  small  elm-trees,  which  were 
planted  by  Mr.  "Webster  to  the  memory  of  his  children, 
Julia  and  Edward.  The  ceremony  of  their  planting  was 
as  follows  :  Mr.  Webster  had  been  missing  from  his  study 
for  an  hour  or  more,  when  he  suddenly  made  his  appear 
ance  before  his  son  Fletcher  with  t\vo  small  trees  and  a 
shovel  in  his  hand,  and  summoned  his  attendance.  He 
then  walked  to  the  spot  already  designated,  and,  having 
dug  the  holes,  and  planted  the  trees  without  any  assist 
ance,  he  handed  the  shovel  to  Fletcher,  and  remarked,  in 
a  subdued  voice,  as  he  turned  away,  "  My  son,  protect 
these  trees  after  I  am  gone  ;  let  them  ever  remind  you 
of  Julia  and  Edivard" 

Those  who  knew  Mr.  Webster  best  say  that  he  has  been 
a  changed  man  since  the  death  of  these  children. 

The  oldest  house  now  known  to  be  standing  on  the  soil 
of  Massachusetts  is  said  to  be  the  one  originally  built  and 
occupied  by  several  generations  of  the  Winslow  family ; 
and  this  stands  upon  a  lot  comprehended  in  Mr.  Webster's 
farm.  It  is  an  aristocratic-looking  place  ;  and,  though 
weather-beaten  and  worn,  applications  are  frequently 
made  to  rent  it,  but  the  proprietor  respects  it  for  its  an 
tiquity  and  associations,  and,  with  characteristic  taste, 
ever  preferred  to  have  it  remain  in  a  kind  of  poetic  solitude. 

Among  the  choice  relics  which  enrich  the  Marshfield 
library  is  the  collection  of  thirteen  silver  medals  which 
were  voted  to  General  Washington  by  the  old  Congress, 


DAN  I  El,     WEBSTER.  77 

and  which,  long  after  his  death,  were  purchased  by  Mr. 
Webster  of  a  branch  of  the  Washington  family.  The  read 
er  will  probably  remember  that  these  medals  were  offered 
to  Congress  with  a  view  of  having  them  deposited  in  the 
National  Library,  and  that  a  committee,  of  which  the  Hon. 
Edward  Everett  was  chairman,  strongly  recommended 
their  purchase  at  almost  any  price.  Strange  as  it  may 
seem,  a  heavy  debate  arose  out  of  this  proposition.  Just 
at  this  time,  it  so  happened  that  Mrs.  Webster  was  deliber 
ating  about  the  purchase  of  a  Cashmere  shawl,  when  Mr. 
Webster  suggested  that  she  should,  for  the  time  being,  go 
without  the  shawl,  and  that  the  money  thus  saved  should 
be  invested  in  the  Washington  medals.  Mrs.  Webster 
most  joyfully  assented,  and  in  a  very  quiet  way  the  med 
als  were  transferred  into  his  possession.  In  the  mean 
time,  the  conclave  of  wise  men  in  the  forum  were  debat 
ing  the  propriety  of  paying  a  trifling  tribute  to  the  mem 
ory  of  Washington ;  and,  after  exhausting  their  learning, 
and  about  one  week  of  their  valuable  time,  they  concluded 
to  purchase  the  medals,  and  were  dumbfounded  to  find 
them  altogether  beyond  their  reach. 

It  comes  not  within  the  province  of  the  writer  to  de 
scribe  these  thirteen  medals  in  detail ;  but,  as  he  learned 
from  Mr.  Webster  that  the  reverse  side  of  the  principal 
one  was  partially  designed  by  Washington  himself,  the 
following  description  is  submitted : 

Occasion. — Evacuation  of  Boston  by  the  British  troops. 

Device. — The  head  of  General  Washington  in  profile. 

Legend. — Greorgio  Washington,  supremo  duci  exerci- 
tum  adsertori  libertatis  comitia  Americana. 


78 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 


Reverse. — Troops  advancing  toward  a  town  which  is 
seen  at  a  distance  ;  troops  marching  to  the  river  ;  ships  in 
view;  General  Washington  in  front,  and  mounted,  with 
his  staff,  whose  attention  he  is  directing  to  the  embarking 
enemy. 

Legend. — Hostibus  primo  Fugatis. 

Exergue. — Bostonium  recuperatum  17  Martii,  1776. 

The  fittest  of  all  men  which  this  country  has  produced 
was  Daniel  Webster  to  inherit  these  testimonials  of  hon 
or  awarded  to  Greorge  Washington,  for,  in  regard  to  pa 
triotism  and  true  greatness,  these  men  were  like  twin- 
brothers. 

Chief,  in  regard  to  age  at  any  rate,  among  Mr.  Web 
ster's  retainers  at  Marshfield  is  his  friend  Seth  Peterson, 
whom  he  once  mentioned  in  a  speech  as  the  author  of  an 
argument  he  had  been  uttering  on  the  price  of  labor,  and 
whom  he  designated  as  "  sometime  farmer  and  sometime 
fisherman  on  the  coast  of  Massachusetts."  A  stout, 
brawny,  sensible,  jovial  man  is  this  "Ancient  Mariner  of 
Marshfield,"  whose  home,  par  excellence,  is  Mr.  Webster's 
beautiful  yacht  Lapwing.  The  twain  have  been  boon 
companions  for  about  twenty-five  years ;  and  the  bays, 
and  inlets,  and  headlands  of  Massachusetts  Bay  were  as 
familiar  to  them  both  as  the  best  fishing-grounds  are  to 
one,  and  the  fields  of  learning  were  to  the  other.  And 
Seth  Peterson  is  a  good  shot  withal,  and  during  the  duck 
and  snipe  shooting  season  was  ever  the  constant  attendant 
of  Mr.  Webster,  as  also  when  he  occasionally  went  forth 
into  a  belt  of  forest-land,  stretching  parallel  with  the  sea- 
coast  of  Plymouth  county,  for  the  purpose  of  killing  a  deer, 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  79 

which  feat  was  sometimes  accomplished  before  a  late 
breakfast  hour.  As  Mr.  "Webster  was  an  early  riser,  he 
had  a  standing  order  that  when  he  was  at  Marshfield,  Seth 
Peterson  should  have  the  very  first  interview  with  him, 
and,  while  this  was  obeyed  as  a  duty  and  considered  a  com 
pliment,  it  resulted  in  a  systematic  arrangement  for  the 
day's  sporting.  The  grace  with  which  Mr.  Webster  was 
in  the  habit  of  doing  every  thing  was  as  conspicuous  in  a 
fishing  expedition  as  at  a  dinner-party  or  a  diplomatic 
interview.  He  had  a  decided  eye  for  the  picturesque  in 
all  things,  but  especially  manifested  it  in  his  costume ; 
and  it  was  exceedingly  pleasant  to  observe  the  kindness 
of  heart  which  he  invariably  manifested,  when,  on  return 
ing  to  his  fish-house  from  a  morning  excursion  far  out  at 
sea,  he  proceeded  to  parcel  out  his  cod-fish  and  mackerel 
or  tautog  to  his  rustic  neighbors.  But  those  who  would 
be  made  fully  acquainted  with  Mr.  Webster's  many  ami 
able  qualities  and  his  skill  as  a  fisherman  must  consult 
Seth  Peterson. 

And,  by-the-way,  those  who  are  in  doubt  as  to  the  ex 
istence  of  a  great  sea-serpent  may  be  pleased  to  know 
that  the  testimony  of  both  Mr.  Webster  and  his  Skipper 
is  on  the  side  of  the  affirmative  of  this  question.  They 
both  allege  that  they  once  saw  some  living  animal  an 
swering  to  the  popular  description  of  this  creature ;  and 
Mr.  Webster  informed  the  writer  that  a  drawing,  taken  of 
one  caught  in  Plymouth  Bay,  was  pronounced  by  the  nat 
uralists  of  Boston  a  miniature  resemblance  of  an  animal 
found  on  the  coast  of  Norway,  near  the  great  whirlpool, 
and  delineated  by  Pontoppidam  in  his  history  of  Norway. 


80  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

The  writer  was  once  enjoying  a  morning  walk  with  Mr. 
Webster  over  his  Marshfield  grounds,  when  we  were  joined 
by  a  Boston  gentleman  who  came  to  pay  his  respects 
to  the  statesman.  Hardly  had  we  proceeded  a  hundred 
yards  before  a  flock  of  quails  ran  across  the  road,  when 
the  stranger  worked  himself  into  an  intense  excitement, 
and  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  if  I  only  had  a  gun,  I  could  easily 
kill  the  whole  flock ;  have  you  not  one  in  your  house, 
sir  ?"  Mr.  Webster  very  calmly  replied  that  he  had  a 
number  of  guns,  but  that  no  man  whatsoever  was  ever 
permitted  to  kill  a  quail  or  any  other  bird,  a  rabbit  or  a 
squirrel,  on  any  of  his  property.  He  then  went  on  to 
comment  upon  the  slaughtering'  propensities  of  the  Amer 
ican  people,  remarking  that  in  this  country  there  was  an 
almost  universal  passion  for  killing  and  eating  every  wild 
animal  that  chanced  to  cross  the  pathway  of  man  ;  while 
in  England  and  other  portions  of  Europe  these  animals 
were  kindly  protected  and  valued  for  their  companionship. 
"  This  is  to  me  a  great  mystery,"  said  he  ;  "  and,  so  far 
as  my  influence  extends,  the  birds  shall  be  protected  ;" 
and  just  at  this  moment  one  of  the  quails  already  men 
tioned  mounted  a  little  knoll,  and  poured  forth  a  few  of 
its  sweet  and  peculiar  notes,  when  he  continued,  "  There ! 
does  not  that  gush  of  song  do  the  heart  a  thousand-fold 
more  good  than  could  possibly  be  derived  from  the  death 
of  that  beautiful  bird  !"  The  stranger  thanked  Mr.  Web 
ster  for  his  reproof,  and  subsequently  informed  the  writer 
that  this  little  incident  had  made  him  love  the  man  whom 
he  had  before  only  admired  as  a  statesman. 

The  last  time  but  one  that  Mr.  Webster  visited  the  spot 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  81 

where  he  had  decreed  that  his  remains  should  repose,  the 
writer  was  his  only  companion.  The  tomb  is  on  the  soil 
of  Marshfield,  and  was  prepared  for  himself  and  family  at 
a  cost  of  one  thousand  dollars.  It  occupies  the  summit 
of  a  commanding  hill,  overlooking  the  ocean  and  the  site 
of  the  first  church  ever  built  in  the  town  of  Marshfield, 
and  is  inclosed  with  an  iron  paling.  When  the  writer 
visited  this  sacred  spot,  in  company  with  Mr.  Webster,  the 
only  words  that  he  uttered  during  the  visit  were  uttered 
while  pointing  to  the  tomb  and  the  green-sward,  and  were 
as  follows  : 

"  This  will  be  my  home ;  and  here  three  monuments 
will  soon  be  erected ;  one  for  the  mother  of  my  children, 
one  each  for  Julia  and  Edward,  and  there  will  be  plenty 
of  room  in  front  for  the  little  ones  that  must  follow  them." 

The  monuments  alluded  to  above  have  been  erected. 
They  are  simple  columns,  about  four  feet  high,  resting  on 
granite  bases,  and  capped  with  marble.  The  inscriptions 
are  as  follows  : 

"  GRACE  WEBSTER, 
Wife  of  DANIEL  WEBSTER  : 

Born  January  16,  1781 ; 

Died  January   21st,   1828. 

Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God." 

"  JULIA  WEBSTER, 

Wife  of 

SAMUEL  APPLETON  APPLETON  : 
Born  January  16,  1818  ; 

Died  April  18,  1848. 
Let  me  go,  for  the  day  breaketh." 


82  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

"  Major  EDWARD  WEBSTER  : 

Born  July  28,  1820  ; 

Died  at  San  Angel,  in  Mexico, 

In  the  military  service  of  his  country, 

January-  23d,  1848. 
A  dearly  beloved  son  and  brother." 

At  the  back  of  the  family  burial-plot  is  the  tomb,  of 
rough-hewn,  massive  granite.  The  floor  lies  six  feet  be 
low  the  natural  level  of  the  site,  and  the  roof  rises  as  far, 
but  is  covered  with  a  luxuriant  sod,  forming  a  green 
mound.  Nothing  can  be  more  simple  than  the  whole  ap 
pearance  of  this  sepulchre.  The  only  thing  which  would 
distinguish  it  as  a  place  of  unusual  interest  is,  the  small, 
plain  marble  slab  over  the  door,  on  which  are  inscribed  in 
bold  characters  the  revered  name  of 

DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


DANIEL     WEBSTER. 


TRAITS  OF  PERSONAL  CHARACTER. 

UNDER  the  above  heading,  it  is  proposed  to  exhibit  some 
of  the  phases  of  Mr.  Webster's  character,  by  a  series  of  dis 
connected  paragraphs,  which  were  recorded,  in  a  note-book 
kept  for  the  purpose,  as  time  and  chance  determined.  And 
for  his  own  sake,  the  writer  would  again  remind  the  reader 
that  he  is  not  writing  a  systematic  biography ;  and  though 
this  may  be  termed  a  "  disjointed  chat  of  his,"  it  is  hoped 
that  the  lessons  and  information  attending  his  plain  un 
varnished  facts  may  not  be  the  less  welcome  to  those  who 
were  unacquainted  with  Mr.  Webster. 

As  he  attained  to  his  prominent  position  chiefly  by 
means  of  his  own  exertions,  it  is  reasonable  to  conclude 
that  he  was  always  a  hard- working  man.  All  who  knew 
him,  knew  this  to  be  a  fact.  Because  he  was  a  man  of 
giant  intellect,  and  had  to  do  with  the  greater  national 
questions  of  the  day,  it  has  been  supposed  that  his  busi 
ness  habits  were  not  plain  and  practical.  This  is  a  great 
mistake,  and  the  writer  will  endeavor  to  prove  the  con 
trary,  by  sketching  his  habits  while  attending  to  his  offi 
cial  duties  as  Secretary  of  State. 

He  was  usually  among  the  first  at  his  post  of  duty  in 
the  department,  and  among  the  last  to  leave.  The  first 
business  he  attended  to  was  to  read  his  mail,  and  this  he 
accomplished  in  a  short  time,  and  after  a  peculiar  manner. 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

The  only  letters  that  he  read  with  attention  were  the  offi 
cial  ones,  and,  where  the  questions  they  brought  up  did 
not  require  investigation,  were  generally  disposed  of  im 
mediately  ;  all  political  letters  were  merely  glanced  at, 
and  then  filed  away  for  future  consideration ;  those  of  a 
private  and  personal  character  were  also  laid  aside,  to  be 
attended  to  or  answered  early  on  the  following  morning, 
at  his  residence  ;  while  every  thing  of  an  anonymous  char 
acter  was  simply  opened,  torn  in  two  pieces,  and  commit 
ted  to  the  basket  of  waste  paper.  The  amount  of  busi 
ness  that  he  sometimes  transacted  during  a  single  morn 
ing  may  be  guessed  at  when  it  is  mentioned  that  he  not 
unfrequently  kept  two  persons  employed  writing  at  his 
dictation  at  the  same  time  ;  for,  as  he  usually  walked  the 
floor  on  such  occasions,  he  would  give  his  chief  clerk  a 
sentence  in  one  room  to  be  incorporated  in  a  diplomatic 
paper,  and,  marching  to  the  room  occupied  by  his  private 
secretary,  give  him  the  skeleton,  or  perhaps  the  very  lan 
guage,  of  a  private  note  or  letter.  In  addition  to  all  this, 
he  made  it  his  business  to  grant  an  audience  to  all  who 
might  call  upon  him,  receiving  dignitaries  with  dignity, 
and  all  friends,  strangers,  and  even  office-seekers,  with 
kindness  and  cordiality ;  and,  in  this  connection,  it  may 
be  well  to  state  that  those  who  made  short  visits  were 
generally  the  most  successful  in  attaining  their  ends,  es 
pecially  if  said  ends  were  "  their  country 's,"  or  OFFICE. 

As  touching  his  deportment  toward  his  subordinates  in 
office,  it  was  invariably  of  the  most  agreeable  character. 
It  was  his  law  that  every  man  should  both  know  and  do 
his  duty ;  but  he  treated  them  all  as  if  he  knew  them  to 


BANIEL     WEBSTER.  85 

be  possessed  of  feelings  as  sensitive  as  his  own.  The  con 
sequence  was  that  every  man  in  his  department  was  a 
warm  personal  friend. 

It  was  ever  his  habit,  on  all  proper  occasions,  to  attend 
to  the  legitimate  duties  of  his  position,  either  as  lawyer, 
as  statesman,  or  diplomatist ;  but  he  had  a  rule  of  long 
standing,  which  prohibited  the  introduction,  by  his  friends 
and  neighbors,  of  all  political  topics  when  visiting  him  in 
his  retirement.  When  at  Elrns  Farm,  they  might  talk  to 
him  about  the  scenery,  the  legends,  the  history,  the  crops, 
and  the  trout  of  the  Merrimack  Valley ;  and  when  at 
Marshfield,  they  might  talk  about  the  ocean  and  its  finny 
tribes,  of  all  the  manifold  pleasures  of  agriculture,  of  lit 
erature,  and  the  arts  ;  but  they  must,  if  they  would  please 
him,  keep  silent  on  all  the  topics,  without  exception,  which 
make  mad  the  politicians  of  the  day.  Though  it  has  been 
his  fortune  to  figure  extensively  in  the  political  history  of 
the  country,  it  is  firmly  believed  that  his  affections  have 
ever  been  far  removed  from  all  such  vanities.  The  neces 
sities  of  his  country  and  his  ideas  of  duty  alone  made  him 
a  politician. 

"  What  little  I  have  accomplished,"  Mr.  Webster  once 
said,  "  has  been  done  early  in  the  morning."  Like  nearly 
all  those  men  who  occupy  prominent  positions  before  the 
world,  he  was  always  an  early  riser.  If  on  either  of  his 
farms,  he  literally  rose  with  the  lark,  and!  went  forth  to  en 
joy  the  quiet  companionship  of  his  cattle  ;  and  if  in  the 
city,  especially  in  Washington,  he  was  up  before  the  sun, 
and  among  the  first  visitors  to  the  market,  where  he  not 
only  attended  to  the  necessary  duty  of  supplying  his  table. 


86  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

but  also  enjoyed  the  conversation  of  the  various  rural  char 
acters  whom  he  met  there,  and  with  whom  it  was  his 
pleasure  to  be  on  intimate  terms.  As  his  habit  of  early 
rising  and  going  to  market  was  known,  many  citizens, 
who  had  not  otherwise  an  opportunity  of  seeing  him,  em 
braced  these  morning  occasions  of  meeting  him. 

The  time  intervening  between  his  morning  walk  and 
the  hour  of  breakfast  was  always  devoted  to  business,  to 
the  writing  of  letters,  marking  out  patches  for  foreign  gov 
ernments,  or  unraveling  the  knotty  political  questions  of 
the  day. 

There  are  very  few  men  in  this  or  any  other  country 
who  possess  the  faculty  of  winning  and  keeping  personal 
friends  to  as  great  an  extent  as  did  Mr.  Webster.  So  sim 
ple  and  unpretending  was  he  in  his  manners,  and  so  kind- 
hearted  and  affectionate,  that  those  who  were  privileged 
to  know  him  intimately  had  their  admiration  greatly  in- 
creased,  and  learned  to  love  him  with  a  devoted  affection. 
That  office-seekers  should  have  entertained  an  opinion  ad 
verse  to  the  above  is  not  surprising,  for  his  most  devoted 
friends  would  not  have  the  hardihood  to  assert  that  he  had 
an  unconquerable  affection  for  this  class  of  amiable  gen 
tlemen.  On  the  contrary,  he  undoubtedly  disliked  them, 
as  would  any  other  public  man  who  had  been  bothered 
by  them  for  nearly  half  a  century.  The  truth  is,  he  did 
not  treat  them  oftentimes  with  the  severity  they  deserved ; 
and  there  are  a  far  greater  number  of  instances  to  be  men 
tioned  of  his  giving  offices  to  poor  men  than  of  his  turning 
the  cold  shoulder  to  those  whose  chief  ambition  was  to 
cut  a  dash.  He  was  beyond  all  question  as  much  a  man 


DANIEL     WEBSTER. 


87 


of  feeling  as  a  man  of  intellect,  and  the  writer  has  yet  to 
learn  the  name  of  the  first  man,  woman,  or  child  who  ever 
knew  Mr.  Webster  and  did  not  love  him. 

For  a  great  many  years  past,  Mr.  "Webster  had  a  regular 
law  office  in  the  city  of  Boston,  and  supplied  with  a  valu 
able  library  of  five  or  six  thousand  volumes,  which  was, 
however,  for  the  most  part,  in  the  keeping  of  a  law  part 
ner.  In  alluding  to  this  fact  on  one  occasion,  he  informed 
the  writer  that  it  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  he 
could  ever  bring  himself  to  attend  to  any  legal  business 
when  sojourning  at  either  of  his  country  residences.  "  It 
not  unfrequently  happens,"  said  he,  "  that  people  come  to 
me  just  as  I  am  about  to  leave  Boston  for  Marshfield,  with 
the  request  that  I  shall  attend  to  their  suits.  I  decline 
the  business,  and  they  insist  upon  my  taking  it  in  hand. 
I  take  their  papers,  put  them  in  my  green  bag,  and  de 
termine  that  I  will  attend  to  their  cases  when  at  Marsh- 
field.  When  arrived  at  this  place,  my  mind  becomes  so 
taken  up  with  its  manifold  enjoyments  that  I  forget  all 
about  the  green  bag,  unless  there  happens  to  come  a  rainy 
day.  In  that  event  I  sometimes  look  at  the  musty  pa 
pers  ;  but  it  is  not  unfrequently  the  case  that  the  bag 
travels  from  Boston  to  the  sea-shore,  and  thence  to  the 
mountains  and  back  again,  without  ever  being  disturbed. 
The  truth  is,  you  can  not  mention  the  fee  which  I  value 
half  as  much  as  I  do  a  morning  walk  over  my  farm,  the 
sight  of  a  dozen  yoke  of  my  oxen  furrowing  one  of  my 
fields,  or  the  breath  of  my  cows,  and  the  pure  ocean 
air." 

In  view  of  his  apparent  carelessness  of  time  and  oppor- 


88  PRIVATE     LIFE     OP 

tunities,  with  what  astonishment  do  we  all  look  upon  the 
recorded  efforts  of  his  brain  ! 

Mr.  "Webster  once  remarked  to  the  writer  that  no  man 
could  become  eminent  in  any  profession,  and  especially  in 
the  law,  without  the  hardest  and  most  laborious  study  ; 
and,  whatever  of  genius  may  be  awarded  to  him,  it  is  cer 
tain  that  he  is  chiefly  indebted  to  his  own  personal  exer 
tions  for  his  late  commanding  position  as  an  orator,  a 
statesman,  a  jurist,  and  a  man  of  letters.  He  was  ever 
in  the  habit  of  performing  all  his  duties,  official  and  pri 
vate,  like  a  downright  business  man ;  indeed,  the  entire 
story  of  his  life  proves  him  to  have  been  at  all  times  a 
practical  man.  Twenty-five  years  ago,  for  example,  he 
was  acknowledged  to  be  one  of  the  most,  if  not  the  most 
efficient  laborer  in  the  useful  and  arduous  toils  of  the 
Congressional  committee-rooms,  and  of  practical  legisla 
tion  ;  and  the  country  was  indebted  to  him  for  not  a  few 
of  the  important  improvements  in  our  laws.  The  most 
remarkable  is  probably  the  Crimes  Act  of  1825,  which,  in 
twenty-six  sections,  did  so  much  for  the  criminal  code  of 
the  country.  The  whole  subject,  when  he  approached  it, 
was  full  of  difficulties  and  deficiencies.  The  law  in  rela 
tion  to  it  remained  substantially  on  the  foundation  of  the 
act  of  1790 ;  and  that,  though  deserving  praise  as  a  first 
attempt  to  meet  the  wants  of  the  country,  was  entirely 
unsuited  to  its  condition,  and  deficient  in  many  important 
particulars.  Its  defects  were  immense  and  manifold,  but 
Mr.  Webster's  act,  which,  as  a  just  tribute  to  his  exertions, 
bears  his  name,  cured  all  those  defects,  and  alone  gave 
him  the  title  of  a  humane  benefactor  of  mankind.  It  is 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  89 

said  that  no  man  at  that  time  but  Mr.  Webster,  who,  in 
addition  to  his  patient  habits  of  labor  in  the  committee- 
room,  possessed  the  general  confidence  of  the  House,  and 
had  a  persevering  address  and  promptitude  in  answering 
objections,  could  have  succeeded  in  so  signal  an  under 
taking. 

No  man  in  the  country  was  more  fond  of  out-door  recre 
ations  than  Mr.  Webster.  He  had  no  taste  or  fondness 
for  in-door  amusements.  He  never  played  a  game  of 
chess,  or  checkers,  or  billiards,  or  ten-pins,  in  his  life ;  and 
it  is  said  that  he  was  equally  ignorant  of  cards,  unless  it 
was  whist,  a  game  which  he  would  play  with  ladies  and 
gentlemen  on  a  winter  evening  for  an  hour  or  so.  To  out 
door  sports  he  has  always  been  addicted,  and  to  this  man 
ly  taste  he  was  unquestionably  indebted  for  the  robust  con 
stitution  of  his  manhood.  In  his  childhood  and  youth  he 
was  far  from  strong ;  indeed,  he  was  supposed  to  possess 
a  feeble  constitution.  There  are  letters  in  existence  writ 
ten  from  one  friend  to  another,  in  which  it  was  frequent 
ly  stated  that  young  Webster  would  be  likely  consigned 
to  an  early  grave,  for  he  appeared  like  one  inclined  to  con 
sumption. 

Mr.  Webster  admired,  above  all  things,  to  see  the  sun 
rise,  especially  from  his  chamber  window  at  Marshfield. 
He  appreciated  the  moral  sublimity  of  the  spectacle,  and 
it  ever  seemed  to  fill  his  mind  with  mighty  conceptions. 
On  many  occasions,  at  sunrise,  both  in  the  spring  and  au 
tumn,  has  he  stolen  into  the  chamber  occupied  by  the 
writer,  which  looked  upon  the  sea,  and,  with  only  his 
dressing-gown  on,  has  stood  by  his  bedside  and  startled 


90  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

the  writer  out  of  a  deep  sleep,  by  a  loud  shout  somewhat 
to  this  effect : 

"Awake !  sluggard,  and  look  upon  this  glorious  scene, 
for  the  sky  and  the  ocean  are  enveloped  in  flames  !" 

On  one  occasion  the  writer  was  awakened  in  a  similar 
manner  at  a  very  early  hour,  when,  lo  !  Mr.  Webster, 
who  happened  to  be  in  a  particularly  playful  mood,  was 
seen  going  through  the  graceful  motions  of  an  angler, 
throwing  a  fly  and  striking  a  trout,  and  then,  without 
speaking  a  word,  disappeared.  As  a  matter  of  course,  that 
day  was  given  to  fishing. 

Much  has  been  said  and  written  about  Mr.  "Webster's  ex 
travagance  and  negligence  in  money  matters.  He  was  not, 
indeed,  a  worshiper  of  Mammon ;  or,  if  the  world  will  have 
it  so,  he  knew  not  the  value  of  money.  But  what  matter  ! 
He  never  defrauded  a  neighbor,  and  he  scorned,  above  all 
others,  the  character  of  a  miser.  He  made  money  with 
ease,  and  spent  it  without  reflection.  He  had  accounts 
with  various  banks,  and  men  of  all  parties  were  always 
glad  to  accommodate  him  with  loans,  if  he  wanted  them. 
He  kept  no  record  of  his  deposits,  unless  it  were  on  slips 
of  paper  hidden  in  his  pockets ;  these  matters  were  gen 
erally  left  with  his  secretary.  His  notes  were  seldom  or 
never  regularly  protested,  and  when  they  were,  they 
caused  him  an  immense  deal  of  mental  anxiety.  When 
the  writer  has  sometimes  drawn  a  check  for  a  couple  of 
thousand  dollars,  he  has  not  even  looked  at  it,  but  packed 
it  away  in  his  pockets,  like  so  much  waste  paper.  During 
his  long  professional  career,  he  earned  money  .enough  to 
make  a  dozen  fortunes,  but  he  spent  it  liberally,  and  gave 


DANIEL     WEBSTER. 

it  away  to  the  poor  by  hundreds  and  thousands.  Begging 
Tetters  from  women  and  unfortunate  men  were  received 
by  him  almost  daily,  at  certain  periods,  and  one  instance 
is  remembered  where,  on  six  successive  days,  he  sent  re 
mittances  of  fifty  and  one  hundred  dollars  to  people  with 
whom  he  was  entirely  unacquainted.  He  was  indeed 
careless,  but  strictly  and  religiously  honest  in  all  his  mon 
ey  matters.  He  knew  not  how  to  be  otherwise.  The  last 
fee  which  he  ever  received  for  a  single  legal  argument 
was  $11,000 ;  and  it  is  a  disgrace  to  the  chivalric  city 
of  New  Orleans  that  his  just  demand,  amounting  to 
$25,000,  for  his  efforts  in  the  great  Gaines  case  remained 
unpaid  at  the  day  of  his  death. 

Mr.  Webster  was  one  of  the  most  hospitable  of  men : 
it  always  seemed  to  do  his  heart  good  to  entertain  his 
friends,  and  he  understood  the  science  of  hospitality  to 
perfection.  While  at  Marshfield,  he  always  had  one  or 
two  guests  under  his  roof,  and  sometimes  a  dozen.  He 
never  consulted  them  about  how  they  wished  to  spend  the 
day,  but  made  all  the  arrangements,  and  then  sent  them 
or  took  them  where  he  pleased,  knowing  well  that  such 
orders  as  he  might  give  would  be  gladly  obeyed.  If  the 
party  consisted  of  six,  he  would  send  two  of  them  after 
trout,  one  to  take  care  of  the  ladies,  and  perhaps  take  the 
three  others  upon  a  fishing  excursion  in  his  beautiful 
yacht,  Captain  Peterson.  He  often  took  along  with  him 
some  of  his  grandchildren,  evidently  for  his  own  pleasure 
as  well  as  theirs.  He  usually  dined  at  a  late  hour,  say 
from  four  to  six,  and  rar^Jy^ap^aj^^Jhe^dinner- table 
except  in  full  dress.  He  was  very  particular  in  regard  to 


y^  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

these  customs  of  etiquette,  and  the  writer  will  never  for 
get  the  reprimand  he  received  from  Mr.  Webster  for  com 
ing  to  the  table,  when  his  excellency  Mr.  Crampton  was 
present,  in  a  frock-coat.  There  was  a  pleasure  in  the 
sting,  however,  for  it  proved  the  reprover  to  be  a  friend. 

No  man  could  be  a  more  devoted  lover  of  nature  and 
natural  history  than  Mr.  Webster  ;  and  very  few  were  more 
thoroughly  versed  in  its  scientific  mysteries.  There  was 
more  truth  than  fancy  in  the  remark  which  he  sometimes 
made,  that  the  world  would  one  of  these  days  be  favored 
with  a  work  on  the  "Natural  History  of  Marshfield," 
from  the  mouth,  in  part,  of  Seth  Peterson,  and  edited  by 
Daniel  Webster.  Notes  for  such  a  work  have  really  been 
made  for  many  years  past,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  the  idea 
was  not  abandoned.  Mr.  Webster  was  ever  in  the  habit 
of  cultivating  the  acquaintance  of  naturaHsTs7and  Audu- 
bon  was  one  of  his  warm  personal  friends.  He  thought 
every  thing  of  the  great  ornithologist,  and  frequently  in 
vited  him  to  Marshfield.  On  one  occasion,  when  Mr.  Au- 
dubon  was  there,  he  was  presented  by  Mr.  Webster  with 
a  wagon-load  of  miscellaneous  birds,  which  the  latter  had 
ordered  to  be  killed  by  his  hunters  all  along  the  coast,  and 
among  them  was  the  identical  Canada  Goose  which  fig 
ures  so  beautifully  in  the  "  Birds  of  America."  Mr.  Web 
ster  has  said  that  the  delighted  naturalist  studied  the  atti 
tude  of  that  single  goose  for  an  entire  day,  and  that  he 
was  three  days  in  taking  its  portrait. 

It  is  well  known  that  Mr.  Webster  was  quite  original 
in  all  his  "  little  ways,"  as  well  as  his  great  ones  ;  but  in 
none  has  he  been  more  so  than  in  his  habit  of  punishing 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  93 

his  children.  In  this  particular  he  acted  contrary  to  the 
Bible,  and  has  spared  the  rod.  Whenever  he  wished  to 
punish  one  of  his  boys  for  misconduct,  he  summoned  him 
into  his  presence,  and,  taking  both  the  hands  of  the  offend 
er  in  his  own,  and  pressing  them  with  all  his  strength, 
would  simply  look  sternly  into  the  boy's  face  for  a  few 
moments,  and  let  him  go  without  uttering  a  word.  And 
according  to  Mr.  Fletcher  Webster,  this  happy  combina 
tion  of  pjiysical  force  and  moral  influence  never  failed 
to  make  him  a  better  boy,  for  the  eye  of  his  father  was 
sure  to  haunt  him  many  a  day  thereafter ;  and  no  man 
could  wonder  at  this  result  who  has  ever  seen  that  eye 
flashing  in  the  heat  of  debate. 

About  three  months  before  the  death  of  Mr.  Webster, 
while  he  was  at  Marshfield,  among  other  things  which 
had  been  sent  by  his  direction  from  his  residence  at  Wash 
ington,  was  a  late  and  very  fine  portrait  of  himself,  by 
Healey.  During  the  day  after  it  was  hung,  he  called  his 
little  grand-daughter  (the  eldest  child  of  his  beloved 
"Julia"),  and,  affectionately  kissing  her,  pointed  to  the 
portrait  and  said,  "That  is  yours."  Early  on  the  morn 
ing  following,  while  in  his  library,  he  wrote  and  sealed  a 
letter,  and  sent  to  the  little  girl  who  was  in  an  adjoining 
room  awaiting  breakfast.  The  letter  was  a  beautiful  one, 
and  contained  a  touching  allusion  to  her  "  amiable  and 
accomplished  mother ;"  and  he  expressed  the  hope  that 
she  would  value  the  picture  when  the  original  was  gone, 
&c.  It  was  evidently  written  with  feelings  of  sadness  in 
view  of  his  declining  health,  and  it  seemed  to  be  his  de 
sire  to  seal  in  writing  the  fact  that  the  picture  was  hers, 


94  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

lest  there  might,  in  the  event  of  his  death,  he  some  little 
jealousy  of  feeling  among  his  grandchildren  in  appropri 
ating  a  relic  so  valuable.  A  portrait  of  himself  had  once 
been  promised  by  Mr.  Webster  to  her  mother. 

On  one  occasion,  when  Mr.  "Webster  was  Secretary  of 
State,  in  1841,  he  came  home  from  the  department,  and 
stepping  into  his  front  parlor,  took  down  from  a  mantle- 
piece  a  very  beautifully  ornamented  basket,  hung  it  upon 
his  arm  and  disappeared.  In  the  course  of  half  an  hour 
he  returned  to  the  house  and  handed  Mrs.  Webster  the 
said  basket  full  of  eggs.  She  was,  of  course,  very  much 
astonished  at  this  development,  on  account  of  the  inappro 
priate  nature  of  the  deed,  and  accordingly  inquired  the 
cause ;  when  Mr.  Webster  replied,  that  he  had  been  all 
the  morning  discussing  with  the  diplomatic  corps  the  af 
fairs  of  some  half  dozen  of  the  principal  kingdoms  of  the 
world,  and,  as  he  was  fond  of  seeing  both  ends  meet,  he 
only  wished  to  realize  how  it  would  seem  for  him,  a  Secre 
tary  of  State,  to  turn  from  such  imposing  business  to  the 
opposite  extreme,  of  purchasing,  within  the  same  hour,  a 
basket  of  newly-laid  eggs. 

One  of  the  most  distinguishing  characteristics  of  Mr. 
Webster's  deportment,  when  among  his  friends,  was  his 
playfulness.  When  at  either  of  his  country  residences, 
he  was  always  the  first  to  leave  his  bed  in  the  morning, 
and  often,  from  that  time  until  breakfast,  he  made  extens 
ive  use  of  his  lungs  by  shouting  and  singing,  and  gener 
ally  concluded  his  discordant  melodies  with  the  remark, 
that  if  there  was  any  one  thing  which  he  understood  above 
all  others,  it  was  singing.  He  had  a  fondness,  too,  for 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  95 

spelling  out  in  the  most  unheard-of  manner  the  various 
familiar  remarks  which  he  had  occasion  to  utter.  The 
lowing  of  a  cow  or  the  cawing  of  a  crow  has  sometimes 
started  him,  not  only  to  imitate  those  creatures  w^ith  his 
own  voice,  but  nearly  all  the  other  animals  that  were  ever 
heard  of.  He  was  also  in  the  habit,  when  in  a  certain 
mood,  of  grotesquely  employing  the  Greek,  Latin,  and 
French  languages,  with  a  sprinkling  of  Yankee  and  West 
ern  phrases,  in  familiar  conversation ;  and  he  had  an  amus 
ing  way  of  conjugating  certain  proper  names,  and  of  de 
scribing  the  characters  of  unknown  persons  by  the  mean 
ing  of  their  names.  He  was,  withal,  one  of  the  best  story 
tellers  in  the  world,  and  every  thing  he  related  in  that  line 
had  a  good  climax.  To  use  the  language  of  one  of  his 
Boston  friends,  "  he  could  relate  an  anecdote  with  wonder 
ful  effect,  and  nothing  was  more  easy  than  for  him  to  *  set 
the  table  in  a  roar.'  His  fund  of  anecdote  and  of  personal 
reminiscence  was  inexhaustible.  No  one  could  start  a 
subject  relating  to  history,  and  especially  to  American 
Congressional  life,  about  which  he  could  not  relate  some 
anecdote  connected  with  some  of  the  principal  characters, 
which,  when  told,  would  throw  additional  light  upon  the 
narrative,  and  illustrate  some  prominent  trait  in  the  char 
acters  of  the  persons  engaged  in  the  transaction.  This 
great  gift  he  possessed  in  a  degree  unsurpassed.  Mr.  "Web 
ster's  ;  table-talk'  was  fully  equal  to  any  of  his  more  elab 
orate  efforts  in  the  Senate.  He  could  talk,  to  use  a  some 
what  misnomeric  expression,  as  well  as  he  could  speak. 
He  had  a  keen  sense  qfjh^judicrousj,  and  loved  and  appre 
ciated  nice  touches  of  eccentric  humor.  We  have  many 


96  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

reminiscences  of  his  story-telling,  for,  when  at  Wash 
ington,  we  often  had  the  pleasure  of  dining  at  his  table. 
On  these  occasions  it  was  the  purpose  of  those  present  to 
draw  him  out ;  and  to  do  this,  it  was  hut  necessary  to 
start  some  topic  in  which  he  felt  an  interest.  We  shall 
never  forget  his  account  of  his  visit  to  Jefferson,  at  Mon- 
ticello,  his  analysis  of  the  character  and  intellectual  at 
tainments  of  Hamilton,  who,  he  thought,  bore  a  closer  re 
semblance  to  the  younger  Pitt  than  any  other  man  in 
English  or  American  history,  and  his  anecdotes  of  Chief- 
justice  Marshall,  and  old  Mr.  Stockton,  of  New  Jersey,  and 
of  his  ride  from  Baltimore  to  Washington  in  a  wagon,  with 
a  stout,  burly  fellow,  who  told  him  he  was  a  robber." 

The  last  incident  alluded  to  is  said  to  have  occurred  to 
Mr.  Webster  before  rail-roads  were  built,  as  he  was  forced 
one  night  to  make  a  journey  by  private  conveyance  from 
Baltimore  to  Washington.  The  man  who  drove  the  wagon 
was  such  an  ill-looking  fellow,  and  told  so  many  stories 
of  robberies  and  murders,  that  before  they  had  gone  far 
Mr.  Webster  was  almost  frightened  out  of  his  wits.  At 
last  the  wagon  stopped  in  the  midst  of  a  dense  wood,  when 
the  man,  turning  suddenly  round  to  his  passenger,  ex 
claimed  fiercely,  "  Now,  sir,  tell  me  who  you  are  !"  Mr. 
Webster  replied,  in  a  faltering  voice,  and  ready  to  spring 
from  the  vehicle,  "  I  am  Daniel  Webster,  member  of  Con 
gress  from  Massachusetts!"  "What!"  rejoined  the  driv 
er,  grasping  him  warmly  by  the  hand,  "  are  you  Webster  ? 
Thank  (rod  !  thank  God  !  You  were  such  a  deuced  ugly 
chap,  that  I  took  you  for  some  cut-throat  or  highwayman." 
This  is  the  substance  of  the  story,  but  the  precise  words 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  97 

used  by  Mr.  Webster  himself  in  repeating  it  are  not  re 
membered. 

There  is  not  an  artist  in  the  land  who  has  a  better  eye 
for  the  picturesque  in  costume  than  Mr.  "Webster.  When 
entertaining  a  party  at  dinner  or  holding  a  levee,  he_  al 
ways  looked  the  gentleman  superbly ;  when  out  upon  a 
fishing  excursion,  he  could  not  be  taken  for  any  thing  but 
an  angler ;  and  when  on  a  shooting  frolic,  he  was  a  gen 
uine  rustic  Nimrod.  And  hereby  hangs  an  incident.  He 
was  once  tramping  over  the  Marshfield  meadows,  shooting 
ducks  with  Seth  Peterson,  when  he  encountered  a  couple 
of  Boston  sporting  snobs,  who  happened  to  be  in  trouble 
just  then  about  crossing  a  bog.  Not  knowing  Mr.  Web 
ster,  and  believing  him  to  be  strong  enough  to  help  them 
over  the  water,  they  begged  to  be  conveyed  to  a  dry  point 
upon  his  back.  The  request  was  of  course  complied  with, 
and  after  the  cockneys  had  paid  him  a  quarter  of  a  dollar 
each  for  his  trouble,  they  inquired  if  "  Old  Webster  was 
at  home,"  for  as  they  had  had  poor  luck  in  shooting,  they 
would  honor  him  with  a  call.  Mr.  Webster  replied  "  that 
the  gentleman  alluded  to  was  not  at  home  just  then,  but 
would  be  so  soon  as  he  could  walk  to  the  house,  and  then 
added  that  he  would  be  glad  to  see  them  at  dinner."  As 
may  be  presumed,  the  cockneys  were  never  seen  to  cross 
the  threshold  of  "  old  Webster." 

The  Historical  Address  delivered  by  Mr.  Webster  in  New 
York  in  February  last  has  been  often  pronounced  one  of 
his  happiest  efforts.  It  is  certainly  the  most  classical  of 
all.  The  excitement  to  hear  him  was  very  great  through 
out  the  city,  and  though  the  tickets  were  not  originally 

E 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

purchasable,  there  were  instances  in  which  a  hundred  dol 
lars  were  paid  for  a  single  admission.  Two  hours  before 
he  was  to  appear  before  the  most  magnificent  of  audiences, 
Mr.  Webster  was  telling  stories  at  his  dinner-table,  as  un 
concernedly  as  if  he  was  only  intending  to  take  his  usual 
nap.  On  being  questioned  as  to  what  he  proposed  to  say, 
he  remarked  as  follows  : 

"  I  am  going  to  be  excessively  learned  and  classical, 
and  shall  talk  much  about  the  older  citizens  of  Greece. 
When  I  make  my  appearance  in  Broadway  to-morrow, 
people  will  accost  me  thus,  '  G-ood-moming,  Mr.  Webster. 
Recently  from  Greece,  I  understand ;  how  did  you  leave 
Mr.  Pericles  and  Mr.  Aristophanes  ?' ': 

Brilliancy  of  diction  and  warmth  of  color,  as  it  were,  in 
Mr.  Webster's  written  and  spoken  words  did  involve  a  want 
of  profundity.  When  you  heard  him,  you  pronounced  him 
to  be  emphatically  a  man  of  feeling ;  when  you  read  his 
speeches,  you  were  not  less  struck  with  the  faultless  pre 
cision  of  the  reasoning,  the  unerring  accuracy  of  the  de 
ductions.  His  .chief  characteristic,  if  one  quality  predom 
inated  over  the  other,  was  his  earnestness  of  purpose. 
When  Senator  Bell,  on  the  memorable  seventh  of  March, 
1850,  observed  that  it  was  high  time  the  people  of  this 
country  should  know  what  the  Constitution  was  :  "  Then, 
by  the  blessing  of  Heaven,"  replied  Mr.  Webster,  "  they 
shall  learn  this  day,  before  the  sun  goes  down,  what  I  take 
it  to  be."  There  could  be  no  doubt  that  he  was,  in  the 
language  of  the  old  English  republicans,  "  thorough" — 
he  felt  what  he  said,  felt  it  deeply,  and  clothed  it  in  words 
which  his  hearers  could  not  help  feeling.  It  is  told  of  one 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  99 

of  his  bitterest  opponents,  that  during  a  powerful  appeal 
of  Mr.  Webster  to  the  Senate,  he  affected  to  disparage  him, 
and  pretended  to  read  a  newspaper  while  the  "  Expounder" 
was  poring  forth  words  of  fire  ;  but  the  flushed  cheek  and 
trembling  hand  betrayed  the  device,  and  left  little  room 
for  surprise  when  it  was  discovered  that  the  newspaper 
was  upside  down. 

On  the  day  preceding  the  one  on  which  it  was  expected 
that  Mr.  Webster  would  deliver  the  address  of  welcome  to 
General  La  Fayette  in  Boston  in  1825,  he  happened  to  be 
out  in  his  fishing  yacht.  Fish  were  not  abundant,  and 
his  companions  were  just  about  giving  up  in  despair,  when 
Mr.  Webster  hooked  a  very  large  cod,  and  just  as  it  ap 
peared  at  the  top  of  the  water,  he  exclaimed,  in  a  loud  and 
pompous  voice,  "  Welcome  !  all  hail !  and  thrice  welcome, 
citizen  of  two  hemispheres  !" 

Indeed,  Mr.  Webster's  sport  of  angling  has  given  him 
many  opportunities  for  composition — his  famous  address 
on  Bunker  Hill  having  been  mostly  planned  out  on  Marsh- 
pee  Brook  ;  and  it  is  said  that  the  following  exclamation 
was  first  heard  by  a  couple  of  huge  trout,  immediately  on 
their  being  transferred  to  his  fishing-basket,  as  it  subse 
quently  was  heard  at  Bunker  Hill  by  many  thousands 
of  his  fellow-citizens  :  "  Venerable  men  !  you  have  come 
down  to  us  from  a  former  generation.  Heaven  has  boun 
teously  lengthened  out  your  lives  that  you  might  behold 
this  joyous  day." 

In  this  connection  the  following  particulars  are  worth 
mentioning.  While  his  mind  was  greatly  occupied  with 
the  affairs  of  the  nation  in  the  spring  of  1851,  he  was  even 


100  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

then  in  the  almost  daily  habit  of  wetting  a  line  at  the 
Little  Falls  of  the  Potomac.  His  only  and  constant  com 
panion  on  these  occasions  was  the  writer,  for  whom  he 
was  in  the  habit  of  calling  at  the  early  hour  of  four  in  the 
morning.  He  was  always  delighted  to  capture  a  few  rock- 
fish  or  bass,  but  if  we  happened  to  catch  nothing  he  was 
quite  contented,  for  he  enjoyed  the  fresh  air  and  the  ex 
ercise.  As  we  always  returned  from  the  fishing-ground 
before  the  public  offices  were  opened,  he  took  pleasure  in 
congratulating  himself  with  the  thought  that  he  had  not 
robbed  the  government  of  any  of  its  demands  upon  his  time. 
Mr.  Webster's  attachment  to  the  Bible  has  already  been 
mentioned ;  indeed,  he  loved  and  he  read  that  priceless 
volume  as  it  ought  to  be  loved  and  read  ;  and  he  once  told 
the  writer  that  he  could  not  remember  the  time  when  he 
was  unable  to  read  a  chapter  therein.  He  read  it  aloud 
to  his  family  on  every  Sunday  morning,  and  often  deliv 
ered  extempore  sermons  of  great  power  and  eloquence. 
He  never  made  a  journey  without  carrying  a  copy  with 
him ;  and  the  writer  would  testify  that  he  never  listened 
to  the  Story  of  the  Savior,  or  heard  one  of  the  Prophecies 
of  Isaiah,  when  it  sounded  so  superbly  eloquent  as  when 
coming  from  his  lips.  Those  admitted  to  the  intimacy 
of  his  conversation  alone  can  tell  of  the  eloquent  fervor 
with  which  he  habitually  spoke  of  the  inspired  writings  ; 
how  much  light  he  could  throw  on  a  difficult  text ;  how 
much  beauty  lend  to  expressions  that  would  escape  all  but 
the  eye  of  genius  ;  what  new  vigor  he  could  give  to  the 
most  earnest  thought ;  and  what  elevation  even  to  sub- 


D  A  N  I E  L  '  W  E  &£T  E'R. 


'  ''101 


It  would  be  impossible,  as  C.  W.  March  has  said,  for 
any  one  to  listen  half  an  hour  to  one  of  his  dissertations 
on  the  Scriptures,  and  not  believe  in  their  inspiration,  or 
his.  And  yet,  while  his  private  conversations  and  public 
productions  attest  how  deeply  he  was  imbued  with  the 
spirit  of  the  Scriptures,  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  ever 
contained  the  slightest  irreverent  allusion  to  any  passage 
in  them,  any  thing  in  the  way  of  illustration,  analogy,  or 
quotation,  which  would  seem  to  question  their  sanctity. 
He  was  scrupulously  delicate  in  this  regard ;  and  therein 
differed  widely  from  most  of  his  contemporaries  in  public 
life  ;  as  he  read  and  admired  the  Bible  for  its  eloquence, 
so  did  he  venerate  it  for  its  sacredness. 

And,  in  continuation  of  the  foregoing,  the  writer  can 
not  refrain  from  quoting  the  following  passage  from  the 
pen  of  one,  though  anonymous,  who  seems  to  have  fully 
appreciated  the  correctness  of  Mr.  "Webster's  religious  views 
and  tastes  : 

"It  was  our  fortune,"  says  he,  "  to  pass  several  days  at 
his  home  in  Marshfield,  some  six  or  eight  years  ago,  and 
well  we  remember  one  beautiful  night,  when  the  heavens 
seemed  to  be  studded  with  countless  myriads  of  stars,  that, 
about  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  we  walked  out  and 
stood  beneath  the  beautiful  weeping  elm  which  raises  its 
majestic  form  within  a  few  paces  of  his  dwelling,  and 
looking  up  through  the  leafy  branches,  he  appeared  for 
several  minutes  to  be  wrapped  in  deep  thought,  and  at 
length,  as  if  the  scene,  so  soft  and  beautiful,  had  suggest 
ed  the  lines,  he  quoted  certain  verses  of  the  eighth  Psalm, 
beginning  with  the  words,  *  When  I  consider  thy  heavens, 


102  'PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

the  work  of  thy  fingers,  the  moon  and  the  stars,  which 
thou  hast  ordained  ;  what  is  man,  that  thou  art  mindful 
of  him  ?  and  the  son  of  man,  that  thou  visitest  him  ?  For 
thou  hast  made  him  a  little  lower  than  the  angels,  and 
hast  crowned  him  with  glory  and  honor,'  &c. 

"  The  deep,  low  tone  in  which  he  repeated  these  in 
spired  words,  and  the  deep,  rapt  attention  with  which 
he  gazed  up  through  the  branches  of  the  elm,  struck  us 
with  a  feeling  of  greater  awe  and  solemnity  than  we  ever 
felt  when,  in  a  year  or  two  later,  we  visited  some  of  the 
most  magnificent  cathedrals  of  the  old  world,  venerable 
with  the  ivy  of  centuries,  and  mellowed  with  the  glories 
of  a  daily  church  service  for  a  thousand  years.  He  was 
thinking  then  of  that  far-distant  world,  wherein  it  is  prom 
ised  that  the  good  of  this  life  shall  live  forever  and  ever. 
We  remained  out  beneath  the  tree  for  over  an  hour,  and 
all  the  time  he  conversed  about  the  Scriptures,  which  no 
man  has  studied  with  greater  attention,  and  of  which  no 
man  whom  we  ever  saw  knew  so  much,  or  appeared  to 
understand  or  appreciate  so  well. 

"  He  talked  of  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament  especial 
ly,  and  dwelt  with  unaffected  pleasure  upon  Isaiah,  the 
Psalms,  and  especially  the  Book  of  Job.  The  Book  of 
Job,  he  said,  taken  as  a  mere  work  of  literary  genius,  was 
one  of  the  most  wonderful  productions  of  any  age  or  of 
any  language.  As  an  epic  poem,  he  deemed  it  far  supe 
rior  to  either  the  Iliad  or  the  Odyssey.  The  two  last,  he 
said,  received  much  of  their  attraction  from  the  mere  nar 
ration  of  warlike  deeds,  and  from  the  perilous  escapes  of 
the  chief  personage  from  death  and  slaughter ;  but  the 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  lUo 

Book  of  Job  was  a  purely  intellectual  narrative.  Its  power 
was  shown  in  the  dialogues  of  the  characters  introduced. 
The  story  was  simple  in  its  construction,  and  there  \vas 
little  in  it  to  excite  the  imagination  or  arouse  the  sym 
pathy.  It  was  purely  an  intellectual  production,  and  de 
pended  upon  the  power  of  the  dialogue,  and  not  upon  the 
interest  of  the  story,  to  produce  its  effects.  This  was  con 
sidering  it  merely  as  an  intellectual  work.  He  read  it 
through  very  often,  and  always  with  renewed  delight.  In 
his  judgment,  it  was  the  greatest  epic  ever  written. 

"  We  well  remember  his  quotation  of  some  of  the  verses 
in  the  thirty-eighth  chapter:  'Then  the  Lord  answered 
Job  out  of  the  whirlwind,  and  said,  Who  is  this  that  dark- 
eneth  counsel  by  words  without  knowledge?  Gird  up 
now  thy  loins  like  a  man ;  for  I  will  demand  of  thee,  and 
answer  thou  me.  Where  wast  thou  when  I  laid  the 
foundations  of  the  earth?  Declare,  if  thou  hast  under 
standing,'  &c.  Mr.  Webster  was  a  fine  reader,  and  his 
recitation  of  particular  passages  which  he  admired  was 
never  surpassed,  and  was  capable  of  giving  the  most  ex 
quisite  delight  to  those  who  could  appreciate  them." 

In  further  illustration  of  the  foregoing,  the  following, 
from  the  pen  of  Francis  Hall,  Esq.,  of  the  New  York  Com 
mercial  Advertiser,  is  deeply  interesting : 

Some  years  ago,"  says  he,  "  we  had  the  pleasure  of 
spending  several  days  in  company  with  Mr.  Webster,  at 
the  residence  of  a  mutual  friend,  Harvey  Ely,  Esq.,  at 
Rochester.  During  that  intercourse  we  had  more  than 
one  opportunity  of  conversing  on  religious  subjects,  some 
times  on  doctrinal  points,  but  more  generally  on  the  im- 


i04  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

portanoe  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  as  containing  the  plan  of 
man's  salvation  through  the  atonement  of  Christ.  So  far 
as  our  knowledge  of  the  subject  extends,  Mr.  Webster  was 
as  orthodox  as  any  man  we  ever  conversed  with. 

"  On  one  occasion,  when  seated  in  the  drawing-room 
with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ely,  Mr.  Webster  laid  his  hand  on  a 
copy  of  the  Scriptures,  saying,  with  great  emphasis,  *  This 
is  the  Book!'  This  led  to  a  conversation  on  the  import 
ance  of  the  Scriptures,  and  the  too  frequent  neglect  of  the 
study  of  the  Bible  by  gentlemen  of  the  legal  profession, 
their  pursuits  in  life  leading  them  to  the  almost  exclusive 
study  of  works  having  reference  to  their  profession.  Mr. 
Webster  said,  '  I  have  read  through  the  entire  Bible  many 
times.  I  now  make  a  practice  to  go  through  it  once  a 
year.  It  is  the  book  of  all  others  for  lawyers  as  well  as 
for  divines ;  and  I  pity  the  man  that  can  not  find  in  it  a 
rich  supply  of  thought,  and  of  rules  for  his  conduct.  It 
te~mariT6r  life — it  prepares  him  for  death!' 

u  The  conversation  then  turned  upon  sudden  deaths ; 
and  Mr.  Webster  adverted  to  the  then  recent  death  of  his 
Brother,  who  expired  suddenly  at  Concord,  N.  H.  *  My 
brother,'  he  continued,  '  knew  the  importance  of  Bible 
truths.  The  Bible  led  him  to  prayer,  and  prayer  was  his 
communion  with  Grod.  On  the  day  on  which  he  died,  he 
was  engaged  in  an  important  cause  in  the  court  the'n  in 
session.  But  this  cause,  important  as  it  was,  did  not  keep 
him  from  his  duty  to  his  Grod.  He  found  time  for  pray 
er  ;  for  on  the  desk  which  he  had  just  left  was  found  a 
prayer  written  by  him  on  that  day,  which,  for  fervent 
piety,  a  devotedness  to  his  heavenly  Master,  and  for  ex 
pressions  of  humility,  I  think  was  never  excelled.' 


DANIEL    WEBSTER.  105 

"  Mr.  Webster  then  mentioned  the  satisfaction  he  had  de 
rived  from  the  preaching  of  certain  clergymen,  observing 
that  *  men  were  so  constituted  that  we  could  not  all  ex 
pect  the  same  spiritual  benefit  under  the  ministry  of  the 
same  clergyman.'  He  regretted  that  there  was  not  more 
harmony  of  feeling  among  professors  generally  who  be 
lieved  in  the  great  truths  of  our  common  Christianity. 
Difference  of  opinion,  he  admitted,  was  proper ;  but  yet, 
with  that  difference,  the  main  objects  should  be  love  to 
Grod — love  to  our  fellow-creatures.  In  all  Mr.  Webster's 
conversations  he  maintained  true  catholicity  of  feeling." 

A  few  months  ago,  when  Professor  Sanborn,  of  Dart 
mouth  College  (who  is  the  husband  of  one  of  Mr.  Webster's 
nieces),  happened  to  be  in  Washington  City,  he  wrote  a 
private  letter  to  a  friend,  which  contained  the  following 
interesting  passage  :  "  A  few  evenings  since,  sitting  by  his 
own  fireside,  after  a  day  of  severe  labor  in  the  Supreme 
Court,  Mr.  Webster  introduced  the  last  Sabbath's  sermon, 
and  discoursed  in  animated  and  glowing  eloquence  for  an 
hour  on  the  great  truths  of  the  Grospel.  I  can  not  but  re 
gard  the  opinions  of  such  a  man  in  some  sense  as  public 
property.  This  is  my  apology  for  attempting  to  recall 
some  of  those  remarks  which  were  uttered  in  the  privacy 
of  the  domestic  circle.  Said  Mr.  Webster,  <  Last  Sabbath 
I  listened  to  an  able  and  learned  discourse  upon  the  evi 
dences  of  Christianity.  The  arguments  were  drawn  from 
prophecy,  history,  with  internal  evidence.  They  were 
stated  with  logical  accuracy  and  force ;  but.  as  it  seemed 
to  me,  the  clergyman  failed  to  draw  from  them  the  right 
conclusion.  He  came  so  near  the  truth  that  I  was  as- 

E  2 


106  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

tonished  that  he  missed  it.  In  summing  up  his  argu 
ments,  he  said,  the  only  alternative  presented  by  these 
evidences  is  this  :  either  Christianity  is  true,  or  it  is  a  de 
lusion  produced  "by  an  excited  imagination.  Such  is  not 
the  alternative,'  said  the  critic,  'but  it  is  this:  the  Grospel 
is  either  true  history,  or  it  is  a  consummate  fraud  ;  it  is 
either  a  reality  or  an  imposition.  Christ  was  what  he  pro 
fessed  to  be,  or  he  was  an  impostor.  There  is  no  other 
alternative.  His  spotless  life  in  his  earnest  enforcement 
of  the  truth — his  suffering  in  its  defense,  forbid  us  to  sup 
pose  that  he  was  suffering  an  illusion  of  a  heated  brain. 
Every  act  of  his  pure  and  holy  life  shows  that  he  was  the 
author  of  truth,  the  advocate  of  truth,  the  earnest  defender 
of  truth,  and  the  uncompromising  sufferer  for  truth.  Now, 
considering  the  purity  of  his  doctrines,  the  simplicity  of 
his  life,  and  the  sublimity  of  his  death,  is  it  possible  that 
he  would  have  died  for  an  illusion  ?  In  all  his  preaching 
the  Savior  made  no  popular  appeals.  His  discourses  were 
all  directed  to  the  individual.  Christ  and  his  apostles 
sought  to  impress  upon  every  man  the  conviction  that  he 
must  stand  or  fall  alone — he  must  live  for  himself  and  die 
for  himself,  and  give  up  his  account  to  the  omniscient 
Grod,  as  though  he  were  the  only  dependent  creature  in 
the  universe.  The  Grospel  leaves  the  individual  sinner 
alone  with  himself  and  his  (rod.  To  his  own  Master  he 
stands  or  falls.  He  has  nothing  to  hope  from  the  aid  and 
sympathy  of  associates.  The  deluded  advocates  of  new 
doctrines  do  not  so  preach.  Christ  and  his  apostles,  had 
they  been  deceivers,  would  not  have  so  preached.  If  cler 
gymen  in  our  days  would  return  to  the  simplicity  of  the 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  107 

Gospel,  and  preach  more  to  individuals  and  less  to  the 
crowd,  there  would  not  be  so  much  complaint  of  the  de 
cline  of  true  religion.  Many  of  the  ministers  of  the  pres 
ent  day  take  their  text  from  St.  Paul,  and  preach  from 
the  newspapers.  When  they  do  so,  I  prefer  to  enjoy  in 
own  thoughts  rather  than  to  listen.  I  want  my  pastor  i;> 
come  to  me  in  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  saying,  "You  are 
mortal !  your  probation  is  brief ;  your  work  must  be  done 
speedily ;  you  are  immortal  too.  You  are  hastening  to 
the  bar  of  God ;  the  Judge  standeth  before  the  door." 
"When  I  am  thus  admonished,  I  have  no  disposition  to 
muse  or  to  sleep.  These  topics,'  said  Mr.  Webster,  'have 
often  occupied  my  thoughts,  and  if  I  had  time  I  would 
write  on  them  myself.' 

"  The  above  remarks  are  but  a  meagre  and  imperfect 
abstract  from  memory  of  one  of  the  most  eloquent  sermons 
to  which  I  ever  listened." 

One  of  the  most  peculiar  traits  of  Mr.  Webster's  char 
acter  was  his  memory  with  regard  to  men  and  names. 
There  probably  never  lived  a  man  who  was  personally 
acquainted  with  so  many  men,  whether  distinguished  or 
obscure.  He  always  seemed  posted  up  with  regard  to 
what  every  body  had  said  or  done.  By  way  of  illustrating 
this  fact,  the  following  memorandums  of  answers  to  two 
questions,  proposed  by  the  writer  during  an  evening  con 
versation,  are  appended  : 

"  The  verses  beginning  '  You'd  scarce  expect  one  of  my 
age?  which  are  generally  found  in  the  school-books  cred 
ited  to  Edward  Everett,  were  written  by  David  Everett. 
He  was  an  educated  man  of  considerable  genius  and  tal- 


108  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

ent,  born,  I  think,  in  Massachusetts,  and  reared  to  the 
bar.  If  I  mistake  not,  he  studied  law  in  New  Hamp 
shire,  at  Amherst,  where  he  practiced  his  profession  for 
many  years,  and  held  the  office  of  County  Solicitor.  He 
was  a  pleasant  speaker  and  an  agreeable  man.  His  poli 
tics  were  of  the  Democratic  school,  and  I  think  he  was  at 
one  time  concerned  in  the  editorship  of  one  of  the  Boston 
journals.  Several  of  his  orations  and  addresses  were 
printed.  He  was  at  the  bar  in  New  Hampshire  when  I 
lived  in  that  state.  Always  differing  in  political  matters, 
we  were  yet  friends  ;  and  he  was  accustomed  to  speak  of 
my  earliest  efforts  at  the  bar  with  warm  commendation. 

" '  No  pent-up  Utica  contracts  our  pow'rs, 
But  the  whole  boundless  continent  is  ours.' 

"  I  have  often  been  asked  if  I  knew  the  origin  of  these 
lines,  and  especially  have  been  so  asked  by  citizens  of 
Utica,  in  New  York.  This  shows  how  the  authorship  of 
such  small  productions,  agreeable  though  they  may  be, 
passes  away  and  is  forgotten.  Fifty  years  ago  or  more, 
when  the  American  theatre  was  far  more  respectable,  in 
my  opinion,  than  it  is  now,  Addison's  tragedy  of  Cato  was 
got  up  by  a  company  in  Boston,  and  represented,  I  think, 
at  the  old  Federal  Street  Theatre.  A  prologue  on  that  oc 
casion  was  written  by  Robert  Treat  Paine,  Jun.,  Esq., 
and  these  lines  are  part  of  that  prologue.  Robert  Treat 
Paine,  then  Robert  Treat  Paine,  Jun.,  was  the  second  son 
of  Robert  T.  Paine,  one  of  the  signers  of  the  Declaration 
of  Independence.  He  was  bred  to  the  bar,  but  did  not 
follow  Blackstone's  example  in  bidding  farewell  to  his 
Muse  and  giving  himself  up  to  his  profession.  He  had  0 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  109 

good  deal  of  the  spirit  of  poetry  in  him,  and  wrote  many 
things  indicative  of  genius  and  spirit.  Among  others,  the 
song  of  Adams  and  Liberty,  which  was  very  popular  in 
New  England  in  its  time.  Some  of  its  verses  were  trav 
estied  ;  for  instance,  the  following  lines  occur  in  the  song : 

"  '  Roll  on,  loved  Connecticut ;  long  hast  thou  ran, 
Giving  verdure  to  nature,  and  freedom  to  man.' 

"  A  wag  altered  the  lines  thus  : 

"  '  Roll  on,  loved  Connecticut ;  long  hast  thou  ran, 
Giving  shad  to  Northampton,  and  freedom  to  man.' 

"  Mr.  Paine  was  christened  Thomas  Paine,  which  name 
he  bore  to  his  manhood,  and  then  had  it  changed  for  his 
father's  name,  because  he  did  not  like  to  bear  the  same  as 
that  of  the  author  of  the  '•Age  of  Reason?  He  was  an 
intimate  friend  of  the  late  Major  Russel,  for  many  years 
the  editor  of  the  *  Boston  Sentinel,'  and  often  contributed 
to  the  columns  of  that  valuable  journal." 


110  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 


MISCELLANEOUS  MEMORIALS.     . 

OF  all  the  coincidences  associated  with  Mr.  Webster, 
there  is  not  one  to  be  compared  for  interest  and  beauty 
with  the  following :  When  he  delivered  his  argument  on 
the  GHrard  Will,  in  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States, 
the  excitement  to  hear  him  was  truly  intense.  The  ar 
ray  of  women  was  unusually  great  during  the  entire  three 
days  that  he  spoke,  so  much  so,  indeed,  that  numbers  of 
them,  who  could  obtain  no  better  position,  sat  upon  the 
very  floor,  forgetful  of  all  comfort.  Although,  when  he 
entered  the  court-room,  he  intended  only  to  deliver  a  dry, 
legal  argument,  yet  when  the  effort  was  completed  it  was 
found  to  be  a  splendid  sermon  on  the  Christian  ministry, 
as  well  as  the  religious  instruction  of  the  young  ;  and 
among  many  others  of  equal  merit  was  this  passage  : 
"When  little  children  were  brought  into  the  presence  of 
the  Son  of  Grod,  his  disciples  proposed  to  send  them  away  ; 
but  he  said,  '  Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  me.' 
Unto  me  ;  he  did  not  send  them  first  for  lessons  in  morals 
to  the  schools  of  the  Pharisees  or  to  the  unbelieving  Sad- 
ducees,  nor  to  read  the  precepts  and  lessons  phylacteried 
on  the  garments  of  the  Jewish  priesthood ;  he  said  noth 
ing  of  different  creeds  or  clashing  doctrines  ;  but  he  opened 
at  once  to  the  youthful  mind  the  everlasting  fountain  of 
living  waters,  the  only  source  of  eternal  truth,  '  Suffer 


DANIEL     WEBSTER. 


Ill 


little  children  to  come  unto  me.'  And  that  injunction  is 
of  perpetual  obligation  ;  it  addresses  itself  to-day  with  the 
same  earnestness  and  the  same  authority  which  attended 
its  first  utterance  to  the  Christian  world.  It  is  of  force 
every  where,  and  at  all  times.  It  extends  to  the  ends  of 
the  earth ;  it  wrill  reach  to  the  end  of  time,  always  and 
every  where  sounding  in  the  ears  of  men,  with  an  empha 
sis  which  nothing  can  weaken,  and  with  an  authority 
which  nothing  can  supersede,  i  Suffer  little  children  to 
come  unto  me.' " 

The  coincidence  alluded  to  consisted  in  the  fact  that, 
during  the  very  hour  of  the  very  day  on  which  the  above 
paragraph  was  uttered,  one  of  Mr.  Webster's  own  grand 
children,  the  child  of  his  son  Fletcher,  died  in  its  mother's 
arms,  and  was  indeed  translated  to  the  bosom  of  its  Savior. 

The  following  well- authenticated  fact  was  related  to 
the  writer  by  an  eye-witness,  and  is  only  a  specimen  of 
many  that  might  be  mentioned  tending  to  illustrate  the 
character  of  Mr.  Webster's  heart.  Somewhere  about  the 
year  1826,  a  certain  gentleman  residing  in  Boston  was 
thrown  into  almost  inextricable  difficulties  by  the  failure 
of  a  house  for  which  he  had  become  responsible  to  a  large 
amount.  He  needed  legal  advice,  and  being  disheartened, 
he  desired  the  author  of  this  anecdote  to  go  with  him  and 
relate  his  condition  to  Mr.  Webster.  The  lawyer  heard 
the  story  entirely  through,  advised  his  client  what  to  do, 
and  to  do  it  immediately,  and  requested  him  to  call  again 
in  a  few  days.  After  the  gentlemen  had  left  Mr.  Web 
ster's  office,  he  came  hurriedly  to  the  door,  called  upon  the 


112  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

gentlemen  to  stop  a  moment,  and  having  approached  them 
with  his  pocket-book  in  hand,  he  thus  addressed  his  cli 
ent  :  "It  seems  to  me,  my  good  sir,  if  I  understood  your 
case  rightly,  you  are  entirely  naked  ;  is  it  so  ?" 

The  client  replied  that  he  was  indeed  penniless,  and 
then,  of  course,  expected  a  demand  for  a  retaining  fee. 
Instead  of  that  demand,  however,  Mr.  Webster  kindly  re 
marked,  as  he  handed  the  client  a  bill  for  five  hundred 
dollar 's, 

"  Well,  there,  take  that ;  it  is  all  I  have  by  me  now.  I 
wish  it  was  more  ;  and  if  you  are  ever  able,  you  must  pay 
it  back  again." 

The  client  was  overcome,  and  it  may  be  well  imagined 
that  he  has  ever  since  been  a  "Webster  man."  Surely,  a 
man  who  could  command  the  admiration  of  the  world  by 
the  efforts  of  his  gigantic  intellect,  and  also  possessed  the 
above  self-sacrificing  habit  of  making  friends,  must  indeed 
have  been  a  great  and  a  good  man. 

Those  upon  whom  will  hereafter  devolve  the  duty  of 
writing,  in  detail,  the  life  of  Mr.  Webster,  will  find  a  mine 
of  intellectual  wealth  in  his  correspondence.  The  total 
number  of  letters  that  he  has  written  is  unusually  great, 
even  for  a  man  of  distinction,  and  though  many  of  them 
are  necessarily  brief,  a  large  proportion  of  them  contain 
original  opinions  of  peculiar  value  and  interest.  Since 
they  have  been  addressed  to  persons  in  every  sphere  of 
life,  from  the  lords  and  ladies  of  England,  and  the  schol 
ars,  farmers,  and  merchants  of  our  own  country,  to  those 
in  the  humble  walks  of  life  in  every  state  of  the  Union, 


DANIEL     WEBSTER-  113 

their  "  subject  themes"  are  of  course  manifold;  but  it  will 
be  found  that  they  are  all  distinguished  either  for  wisdom, 
wit,  learning,  beauty,  or  affection.  Indeed,  in  the  opinion 
of  the  writer,  a  more  delightful  book  could  not  be  imagined 
than  that  would  be,  composed  of  a  collection  of  Mr.  "Web 
ster's  letters.  And  in  this  place  it  may  do  no  harm  to 
mention,  that  there  are  in  existence  several  volumes  of 
manuscript  notes  which  were  recorded  by  two  ladies  who 
were  members  of  his  household  during  his  visit  to  England, 
and  which  are  almost  exclusively  devoted  to  his  observa 
tions  and  opinions,  as  casually  expressed  in  a  familiar 
manner. 

A  number  of  highly  interesting  letters  and  autographic 
keepsakes  were  presented  to  the  writer  at  various  times 
by  Mr.  Webster,  and  though  he  cherished  the  belief  that 
these  were  his  own  property,  a  different  opinion  has  been 
expressed,  and  he  submits  without  a  murmur. 

The  following  letter  was  written  by  Mr.  Webster  at  five 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  in  the  month  of  April,  1847, 
while  upon  a  visit  to  Richmond,  Yirginia.  It  was  ad 
dressed  to  Mrs.  J.  W.  Paige,  a  lady  connected  with  his 
family  residing  in  Boston : 

"  Whether  it  be  a  favor  or  an  annoyance,  you  owe  this 
letter  to  my  habits  of  early  rising.  From  the  hour  marked 
at  the  top  of  the  page,  you  will  naturally  conclude  that 
my  companions  are  not  now  engaging  my  attention,  as 
we  have  not  calculated  on  being  early  travelers  to-day. 

"  This  city  has  a  '  pleasant  seat.'  It  is  high ;  the  James 
River  runs  below  it,  and  when  I  went  out  an  hour  ago, 
nothing  was  heard  but  the  roar  of  the  falls.  The  air  is 


114  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

tranquil  and  its  temperature  mild.  It  is  morning,  and  a 
morning  sweet,  and  fresh,  and  delightful.  Every  body 
knows  the  morning  in  its  metaphorical  sense,  applied  to 
so  many  objects  and  on  so  many  occasions.  The  health, 
strength,  and  beauty  of  early  years  leads  us  to  call  that 
period  the  *  morning  of  life.'  Of  a  lovely  young  woman 
we  say,  she  '  is  bright  as  the  morning,'  and  no  one  doubts 
why  Lucifer  is  called  *  son  of  the  morning.' 

"  But  the  morning  itself  few  people,  inhabitants  of  cities, 
know  any  thing  about.  Among  all  our  good  people,  not 
one  in  a  thousand  sees  the  sun  rise  once  a  year.  They 
know  nothing  of  the  morning.  Their  idea  of  it  is,  that  it 
is  that  part  of  the  day  which  comes  along  after  a  cup  of 
coffee  and  a  beef-steak,  or  a  piece  of  toast.  With  them 
morning  is  not  a  new  issuing  of  light,  a  new  bursting  forth 
of  the  sun,  a  new  waking  up  of  all  that  has  life,  from  a 
sort  of  temporary  death,  to  behold  again  the  works  of  Grod, 
the  heavens  and  the  earth ;  it  is  only  a  part  of  the  domes 
tic  day  belonging  to  breakfast,  to  reading  the  newspapers, 
answering  notes,  sending  the  children  to  school,  and  giving 
orders  for  dinner.  The  first  faint  streak  of  light,  the  ear 
liest  purpling  of  the  east,  which  the  lark  springs  up  to 
greet,  and  the  deeper  and  deeper  coloring  into  orange  and 
red,  till  at  length  the  '  glorious  sun  is  seen,  regent  of  day' 
— this  they  never  enjoy,  for  they  never  see  it. 

"  Beautiful  descriptions  of  the  morning  abound  in  all 
languages,  but  they  are  the  strongest,  perhaps,  in  those  of 
the  East,  where  the  sun  is  often  an  object  of  worship. 

"  King  David  speaks  of  taking  to  himself  the  '  wings  of 
the  morning.'  This  is  highly  poetical  and  beautiful.  The 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  115 

wings  of  the  morning  are  the  beams  of  the  rising  sun. 
Rays  of  light  are  wings.  It  is  that  the  sun  of  righteous 
ness  shall  arise  '  with  healing  in  his  wings.'  A  rising  sun 
which  shall  scatter  life,  and  health^  and  joy  throughout 
the  universe. 

"  Milton  has  fine  descriptions  of  morning,  but  not  so 
many  as  Shakspeare,  from  whose  writings  pages  of  the  most 
beautiful  imagery,  all  founded  on  the  glory  of  morning, 
might  be  filled. 

"  I  never  thought  that  Adam  had  much  the  advantage 
of  us,  from  having  seen  the  world  while  it  was  new. 

"  The  manifestations  of  the  power  of  Grod,  like  his  mer 
cies,  are  *  new  every  morning,'  and  fresh  every  moment. 

"  We  see  as  fine  rising  of  the  sun  as  even  Adam  saw,  and 
its  rising  are  as  much  a  miracle  now  as  they  were  in  his 
day,  and  I  think  a  good  deal  more,  because  it  is  now  a 
part  of  the  miracle  that  for  thousands  and  thousands  of 
years  he  has  come  to  his  appointed  time  without  the  va 
riation  of  a  millionth  part  of  a  second.  Adam  could  not 
tell  how  this  might  be. 

11 1  know  the  morning — I  am  acquainted  with  it,  and  I 
love  it.  I  love  it,  fresh  and  sweet  as  it  is — a  daily  new 
creation,  breaking  forth  and  calling  all  that  have  life,  and 
breath,  and  being  to  new  adoration,  new  enjoyments,  and 
new  gratitude." 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  will  be  read  with  in 
terest.  It  was  written  from  Franklin,  New  Hampshire, 
on  the  3d  of  May,  1846  : 


116  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 


"  Sunday,  1  o'clock. 
"  MY  DEAR  SIR, 


"  I  have  made  satisfactory  arrangements  respecting  the 
house  ;  the  best  of  which  is,  that  I  find  I  can  leave  it 
where  it  is  (that  is,  the  main  house),  and  yet  be  comfort 
able,  notwithstanding  the  rail-road.  This  saves  a  great 
deal  of  expense. 


"  This  house  faces  due  north.  Its  front  windows  look  to 
ward  the  River  Merrimack.  But  then  the  river  soon  turns 
to  the  south,  so  that  the  eastern  windows  look  toward  the 
river  also.  But  the  river  has  so  deepened  its  channel  in 
this  stretch  of  it,  in  the  last  fifty  years,  that  we  can  not 
see  its  water  without  approaching  it,  or  going  back  to  the 
higher  lands  behind  us.  The  history  of  this  change  is  of 
considerable  importance  in  the  philosophy  of  streams.  I 
have  observed  it  practically,  and  know  something  of  the 
theory  of  the  phenomenon,  but  I  doubt  whether  the  world 
will  ever  be  benefited  either  by  my  learning  or  my  observ 
ation  in  this  respect.  Looking  out  at  the  east  windows 
at  this  moment  (2  P.M.),  with  a  beautiful  sun  just  break 
ing  out,  my  eye  sweeps  a  rich  and  level  field  of  100  acres. 
At  the  end  of  it,  a  third  of  a  mile  off,  I  see  plain  marble 
grave-stones,  designating  the  place's  where  repose  my  fa 
ther,  my  mother,  my  brother  Joseph,  and  my  sisters  Me- 


DANIEL     WEBSTER. 


117 


hetabel,  Abigail,  and  Sarah,  good  and  Scripture  names 
inherited  from  their  Puritan  ancestors. 

"  My  father,  Ebenezer  Webster,  born  at  Kingston,  in 
the  lower  part  of  the  state,  in  1739,  the  handsomest  man 
I  ever  saw,  except  my  brother  Ezekiel,  who  appeared  to 
me — and  so  does  he  now  seem  to  me — the  very  finest  hu 
man  form  that  ever  I  laid  eyes  on.  I  saw  him  in  his  cof 
fin — a  white  forehead,  a  tinged  cheek,  a  complexion  as 
clear  as  heavenly  light !  But  where  am  I  straying  ?  The 
grave  has  closed  upon  him,  as  it  has  on  all  my  brothers 
and  sisters.  We  shall  soon  be  all  together.  But  this  is 
melancholy,  and  I  leave  it.  Dear,  dear  kindred  blood, 
how  I  love  you  all ! 

"  This  fair  field  is  before  me.  I  could  see  a  lamb 
on  any  part  of  it.  I  have  plowed  it,  and  raked  it,  and 
hoed  it ;  but  i  never  mowed  it.  Somehow,  I  could  never 
learn  to  hang  a  scythe.  I  had  not  wit  enough.  My 
brother  Joe  used  to  say  that  my  father  sent  me  to  college 
in  order  to  make  me  equal  to  the  rest  of  the  children ! 

"  Of  a  hot  day  in  July — it  must  have  been  in  one  of 
the  last  years  of  Washington's  administration  —  I  was 
making  hay,  with  my  father,  just  where  I  now  see  a  re 
maining  elm-tree.  About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  the 
Honorable  Abiel  Foster,  M.C.,  who  lived  in  Canterbury,  six 
miles  off,  called  at  the  house,  and  came  into  the  field  to 
see  my  father.  He  was  a  worthy  man,  college-learned, 
and  had  been  a  minister,  but  was  not  a  person  of  any  con 
siderable  natural  power.  My  father  was  his  friend  and 
supporter.  He  talked  a  while  in  the  field,  and  went  on 
his  way.  When  he  was  gone,  my  father  called  me  to 


118 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 


him,  and  we  sat  down  beneath  the  elm,  on  a  hay-cock. 
He  said,  '  My  son,  that  is  a  worthy  man.  He  is  a  mem 
ber  of  Congress.  He  goes  to  Philadelphia,  and  gets  six 
dollars  a  day,  while  I  toil  here.  It  is  because  he  had  an 
education,  which  I  never  had.  If  I  had  had  his  early  ed 
ucation,  I  should  have  been  in  Philadelphia  in  his  place. 
I  came  near  it  as  it  was.  But  I  missed  it,  and  now  I 
must  work  here.'  <  My  dear  father,'  said  I,  <  you  shall 
not  work.  Brother  and  I  will  work  for  you,  and  wear  our 
hands  out,  and  you  shall  rest.'  And  I  remember  to  have 
cried  ;  and  I  cry  now  at  the  recollection.  '  My  child,' 
said  he,  <  it  is  of  no  importance  to  me  ;  I  now  live  but  for 
my  children.  I  could  not  give  your  elder  brother  the  ad 
vantages  of  knowledge,  but  I  can  do  something  for  you. 
Exert  yourself ;  improve  your  opportunities;  learn,  learn; 
and,  when  I  am  gone,  you  will  not  need  to  go  through  the 
hardships  which  I  have  undergone,  and  which  have  made 
me  an  old  man  before  my  time.' 

"  The  next  May  he  took  me  to  Exeter,  to  the  Phillips 
Exeter  Academy,  placed  me  under  the  tuition  of  its  ex 
cellent  preceptor,  Dr.  Benjamin  Abbott,  still  living,  and 
from  that  time  *  *  *  * 

"  My  father  died  in  April,  1806.  I  neither  left  him  nor 
forsook  him.  My  opening  an  office  at  Boscawen  was  that 
I  might  be  near  him.  I  closed  his  eyes  in  this  very  house. 
He  died  at  sixty-seven  years  of  age,  after  a  life  of  exer 
tion,  toil,  and  exposure ;  a  private  soldier,  an  officer,  a 
legislator,  a  judge,  every  thing  that  a  man  could  be  to 
whom  learning  never  had  disclosed  her  *  ample  page.' 
My  first  speech  at  the  bar  was  made  when  he  was  on  the 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  119 

bench.  He  never  heard  rne  a  second  time.  He  had  in 
him  what  I  collect  to  have  been  the  character  of  some  of 
the  old  Puritans,  He  was  deeply  religious,  but  not  sour. 
On  the  contrary,  good-humored,  facetious ;  sharing,  even 
in  his  age,  with  a  contagious  laugh ;  teeth  all  as  white 
as  alabaster  ;  gentle,  soft,  playful ;  and  yet  having  a  heart 
in  him  that  he  seemed  to  have  borrowed  from  a  lion.  He 
could  frown  —  a  frown  it  was — but  cheerfulness,  good- 
humor,  and  smiles  composed  his  most  usual  aspect. 
"  Ever  truly  yours,  &c., 

"  DANL.  WEBSTER." 

It  has  elsewhere  been  mentioned  that  Mr.  Webster  was 
fond  of  the  sea ;  a  sail  in  his  yacht,  on  a  pleasant  day, 
always  seemed  to  afford  him  unalloyed  delight.  In  speak 
ing  of  its  roar  on  one  occasion,  after  a  storm,  he  stated 
that  this  was  called  the  rote  or  rut  of  the  sea ;  that  both 
words  were  correct,  since  they  were  from  the  one  Latin 
root — rota.  The  ruts  in  the  road,  he  said,  were  the  ef 
fect  of  rolling  wheels,  while  rotation  meant  repetition  as 
well  as  succession.  To  learn  a  thing  by  rote  was  to  fix 
it  in  the  mind  by  repeated  readings.  The  rote  or  rut  of 
the  sea,  therefore,  only  meant  the  noise  produced  by  the 
action  of  the  surf  breaking  on  the  shore.  An  expression 
which  was  often  used  by  Seth  Peterson,  "  the  cry  of  the 
sea,"  he  thought  very  expressive,  for  it  signified  the  deep, 
hollow  groaning  and  wailing  of  the  ocean,  uttered  as  if 
in  anger,  or  smarting  under  the  lashing  of  the  winds. 

The  following  are  the  original  notes  of  Mr.  Webster's 


120  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

speech  in  the  Senate,  on  the  7th  of  March,  1850,  and  given 
by  him  to  Hon.  Edward  Curtis  the  next  day. 

Introduction,  &c. 

Stirring  times,  winds  let  loose,  &c.     I  speak  for  union 
— and  quiet. 

1.  History  of  events  which  have  brought  on  this  state 
of  things. 

2.  Slavery — how  regarded  now.     North  and  South — 
Absolutists.     Impatient  waiters. 

3.  How  regarded  in  1789. 

4.  What  has  changed  the  view  ? 

Religion,  at  the  North — Cotton,  at  the  South. 

5.  Acquisitions. 

Cession  by  Georgia,  1802 — Louisiana,  1803 — Florida, 
1819. 

6.  Finally,  Texas,  1845. 

This  sealed  the  whole  matter.     Read  Resolution. 

MY  GENERAL   PROPOSITION. 

7.  Who  brought  in  Texas  ? 

"  Northern  Democracy."      Votes  in  the  two  Houses. 
Mr.  Dix— Mr.  Niles. 

8.  Review  my  own  speeches. 

9.  As  to  California  and  New  Mexico,  the  law  of  Nature. 

10.  Then  what  is  the  value  of  the  Wilmot  Proviso  ?  &o. 
Polk. 

11.  Now  the  aggressions  complained  of  South  and  North. 
Secession.     Conclusion. 

12.  Two  ideas. 

13.  Conclusion. 


DANIEL    WEBSTER.  121 

The  following  will  be  read  with  peculiar  pleasure  as  a 
specimen  of  Mr.  Webster's  poetry : 

"THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  HEART. 
"  If  stores  of  dry  and  learned  lore  we  gain, 
We  keep  them  in  the  memory  of  the  brain ; 
Names,  things,  and  facts — whatever  we  knowledge  call, 
There  is  the  common  ledger  for  them  all ; 
And  images  on  this  cold  surface  traced 
Make  slight  impressions,  and  are  soon  effaced. 

"But  we've  a  page  more  glowing  and  more  bright, 
On  which  our  friendship  and  our  love  to  write ; 
That  these  may  never  from  the  soul  depart, 
We  trust  them  to  the  memory  of  the  heart. 
There  is  no  dimming — no  effacement  here  •, 
Each  new  pulsation  keeps  the  record  clear ; 
Warm,  golden  letters,  all  the  tablet  fill, 
Nor  lose  their  lustre  till  the  heart  stands  still. 
"  London,  November  19th,  1839." 

The  following  is  a  memorandum  of  Mr.  Webster's  con 
versation,  touching  one  of  his  first  schoolmasters  : 

"William  Hoyt  was  for  many  years  teacher  of  our  coun 
ty  school  in  Salisbury  ;  I  do  not  call  it  village  school,  be 
cause  there  was  at  that  time  no  village,  and  boys  came  to 
school  in  the  winter,  the  only  season  in  which  schools  were 
usually  open,  from  distances  of  several  miles,  wading 
through  the  snow,  or  running  upon  its  crust,  with  their 
curly  hair  often  whitened  with  frost  from  their  own  breaths. 
I  knew  William  Hoyt  well,  and  every  truant  knew  him. 
He  was  an  austere  man,  but  a  good  teacher  of  children. 
He  had  been  a  printer  in  Newburyport,  wrote  a  very  fair 
and  excellent  hand,  was  a  good  reader,  and  could  teach 


122  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

boys,  and  did  teach  boys  that  which  so  few  masters  can  or 
will  do,  to  read  well  themselves.  Beyond  this,  and  perhaps 
a  very  slight  knowledge  of  grammar,  his  attainments  did 
not  extend.  He  had  brought  with  him  into  the  town  a 
little  property  which  he  took  very  good  care  of.  He  rather 
loved  money,  of  all  the  cases  of  nouns  preferring  the  pos 
sessive  ;  he  also  kept  a  little  shop  for  the  sale  of  various 
commodities  in  the  house,  exactly  over  the  way  from  this. 
I  do  not  know  how  old  I  was,  but  I  remember  having  gone 
into  his  shop  one  day  and  bought  a  small  cotton  pocket 
handkerchief,  with  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States 
printed  on  its  two  sides ;  from  this  I  first  learned  either 
that  there  was  a  Constitution,  or  that  there  were  United 
States.  I  remember  to  have  read  it,  and  have  known 
more  or  less  of  it  ever  since.  William  Hoyt  and  his  wife 
lie  buried  in  the  grave-yard  under  our  eye,  on  my  farm, 
near  the  graves  of  my  own  family.  He  left  no  children.  I 
suppose  that  this  little  handkerchief  was  purchased  about 
the  time  that  I  was  eight  years  old,  as  I  remember  listen 
ing  to  the  conversation  of  my  father  and  Mr.  Thompson 
upon  political  events  which  happened  in  the  year  1790." 

Mr.  Webster's  father  was  a  soldier  in  the  old  Frencn 
war  (so  called),  and,  as  already  mentioned,  also  acquitted 
himself  with  honor  as  a  captain  under  Greneral  John  Stark, 
at  the  battle  of  Bennington.  On  the  battle-field,  as  well 
as  in  the  walks  of  civil  life,  they  were  fast  friends  ;  and 
the  elder  Webster  used  to  say  that  Greneral  Stark  always 
thought  and  talked  a  great  deal  more  about  his  exploits 
as  a  trapper  of  beaver,  and  a  hunter,  and  fighter  of  the  red 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  123 

man  and  Frenchman,  in  his  earlier  life,  than  he  did  of  his 
Revolutionary  deeds.  But  Mr. Webster  related  the  follow 
ing  characteristic  anecdotes  to  the  writer  :  He  was  about 
twenty-seven  years  of  age,  and  professional  business  had 
called  him  to  the  then  village,  now  known  as  the  flourish 
ing  city  of  Manchester,  where  the  famous  general  resided. 
The  young  lawyer  called  upon  the  hero  for  the  purpose  of 
pay  ing  his  respects,  and  found  him  surrounded  with  friends, 
who,  with  him,  were  hard  at  work  drinking  flip.  The 
parties  were  introduced,  and  the  moment  General  Stark 
heard  the  name  of  Webster,  he  exclaimed  in  a  loud  voice, 
"Why,  Dan  Webster,  you're  as  black  as  your  father ;  and 
he  was  so  black  that  I  could  never  tell  when  his  face  was 
covered  with  powder,  for  he  was  one  of  those  chaps  al 
ways  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight." 

It  was  while  hunting  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of 
Elms  Farm  that  General  Stark  had  been  captured  by  the 
Indians  and  taken  to  Canada,  where  he  was  sold  for  a 
specific  sum  of  money ;  and  it  is  a  common  saying  in  that 
region,  that  whenever  he  heard  his  neighbors  talking 
about  how  much  any  of  them  were  worth,  he  invariably 
mentioned  the  fact  that  his  own  value  had  been  positive 
ly  ascertained,  for  the  Indians  had  once  sold  him  to  the 
French  for  £40,  and  that  a  man  was  worth  about  what  he 
would  fetch. 

Among  the  subordinates  of  the  State  Department  at  the 
present  time  (1852)  is  a  very  worthy  colored  man  named 
Charles  Brown,  who  has  been  in  Mr.  Webster's  employ 
ment  for  about  thirty  years.  Indeed,  Mr.  Webster  has 


124  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

never  been  in  Washington  for  any  length  of  time,  since  he 
first  entered  Congress,  without  having  by  his  side  this  faith 
ful  servant.  A  few  years  ago  it  came  to  Mr.  Webster's 
knowledge  that  this  servant  had  purchased  a  lot  of  ground 
and  built  him  a  comfortable  house,  whereupon  he  was 
Questioned  by  Mr.  Webster  as  to  his  unexpected  success. 

"  Where  did  you  get  the  money  to  purchase  so  fine  a 
house  ?"  asked  he. 

"  I  am  glad  to  say,  sir,  that  it  all  came  out  of  your 
pocket,"  replied  the  man;  "it  is  the  money  which  you 
have  given  me  on  holidays  and  other  occasions." 

From  this  it  would  appear  that  his  occasional  free  gifts 
were  sufficient,  in  one  instance,  to  make  a  man  comfort 
able  for  life. 

On  one  occasion,  when  Mr.  Webster  had  consulted  his 
physician  (and  a  man  of  eminence  too),  and  could  not  ob 
tain  an  answer  to  a  scientific  inquiry,  he  made  this  re 
mark  : 

4 'Why,  doctor,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  science,  no 
mathematical  science,  in  your  profession  or  mine.  Now 
I  tell  you  to  remember  one  thing :  in  every  place  and  at 
all  times,  bear  it  as  your  motto  —  Nobody  knows  any 
thing." 

Another  motto,  which  he  claimed  to  have  made  his  own 
on  commencing  life,  was  this  : 

"  Since  I  know  nothing  and  have  nothing,  I  must  learn 
and  earn" 

A  Quaker  gentleman  of  Nantucket  once  called  upon 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  125 

Mr.  "Webster,  at  his  office  in  Boston,  for  the  purpose  of  se 
curing  his  services  in  a  suit  which  was  about  to  be  tried 
on  the  island,  and  wound  up  his  appeal  by  demanding  his 
terms. 

"I  will  attend  to  your  case  for  one  thousand  dollars," 
replied  Mr.  Webster. 

The  client  demurred,  but  finding  that  the  lawyer  would 
not  visit  Nantucket  for  a  less  amount  than  the  one  spec 
ified,  he  promised  to  pay  the  proposed  fee,  provided  Mr. 
Webster  would  agree  "  to  attend  to  any  other  matters  that 
he  might  present  during  the  sitting  of  the  court,"  to  which 
Mr.  Webster  consented. 

The  appointed  time  arrived,  and  Mr.  "Webster  was  at  his 
post.  The  leading  case  of  his  client  was  brought  forward, 
argued,  and  decided  in  his  favor.  Another  case  was  taken 
up,  and  the  Quaker  assigned  it  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Webster, 
when  it  was  satisfactorily  disposed  of ;  another  still,  and 
with  the  same  result ;  and  still  another,  and  another,  until 
Mr.  Webster  became  impatient  and  demanded  an  explana 
tion  ;  whereupon  the  client  remarked  : 

"  I  hired  thee  to  attend  to  all  the  business  of  the  court, 
and  thou  hast  done  it  handsomely  :  so  here  is  thy  money, 
one  thousand  dollars." 

The  concerns  of  his  farm  always  engrossed  a  very  large 
share  of  Mr.  Webster's  attention,  and  a  talented  contempo 
rary  justly  remarks  that  he  loved  its  labors,  and  the  genial 
communion  with  nature  which  its  associations  so  much 
favored.  It  was  there  that  the  magnanimous  kindliness 
and  tenderness  of  heart,  which  formed  so  large  a  portion 


126 


PRIVATE      LIFE     OF 


of  his  character,  made  itself  seen  and  felt  by  all  who  came 
within  his  influence.  He  was  always  happy  when  he 
could  escape  from  the  worrying  cares  of  professional  or  of 
public  life  to  the  retired  and  homely  pursuits  of  his  Marsh- 
field  Farm.  The  most  genial  humor  pervaded  all  he  did 
and  said  while  thus  engaged.  Of  this,  also,  we  happen 
to  have  a  happy  instance  in  a  business  note  which  he 
wrote  to  Charles  A.  Stetson,  Esq.,  of  the  Astor  House, 
some  three  years  ago,  during  his  temporary  stay  at  Marsh- 
field: 

"  Marshfield,  Sunday,  Sept.  5th,  1849. 
"  MY  DEAR  SIR, 

"  The  best  pair  of  working  oxen  on  my  farm  shall  set 
out  for  your  place  on  Monday.  They  are  seven  years  old, 
large,  handsome,  perfectly  well  broke,  and,  for  common 
cart- work  on  a  farm,  are  a  team  of  themselves. 

"  I  shall  send,  also,  a  likely  pair  of  three-year-old  steers, 
which  have  been  somewhat  used  to  the  yoke,  but  are  not 
yet  quite  so  well  trained  and  drilled  as  a  couple  of  dining- 
room  waiters  at  the  Astor  House.  If  you  wish  any  change 
in  this  arrangement,  please  address  a  line  to  me,  or,  in  my 
absence,  to  '  Mr.  Porter  Wright,'  as  I  may  go  somewhere 
to  try  to  mitigate  my  horrid  catarrh.  If  we  do  not  hear 
to  the  contrary,  the  aforesaid  oxen  and  steers  will  be 
among  the  Lynn  people  next  Tuesday  morning,  where 
they  may  tremble  for  their  skins. 

"  I  hear  nothing  of  the  Alderney,  but  should  be  quite 
glad  to  know  that  she  was  soon  to  join  a  very  small  party 
of  her  own  relatives  here,  viz.,  one  male  and  one  female. 

"  I  am  grieved  to  have  not  seen  you  here,  and  hope  you 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  127 

will  be  the  very  next  visitor,  after  the  President,  if  he 
should  come,  and  an  early  one  if  he  should  not. 
"  I  hope  to  leave  off  sneezing-  in  about  a  fortnight. 
"  Yours  very  truly,  always, 

"  DANL.  WEBSTER." 

This  little  note,  so  unimportant  in  itself,  gives  a  pleasant 
glimpse  into  the  spirit  which  brooded  around  the  daily  life 
of  this  great  man,  during  his  intervals  of  leisure  and  re 
laxation  from  the  harassing  anxieties  of  official  place. 

As  an  appendix  to  the  foregoing  note,  it  ought  to  be 
stated  that  Mr.  Stetson  is  owner  of  the  celebrated  farm  in 
Lynn  so  highly  improved  by  the  late  Henry  Coleman. 
The  allusion  to  the  Astor  House  waiters  reminds  the  writ 
er,  too,  that  when  he  happened  to  be  at  the  Astor  House, 
soon  after  Mr.  Webster's  death,  the  servants,  knowing  the 
writer,  and  feeling  deeply  the  national  bereavement,  flocked 
around  him  in  crowds,  and  asked  many  minute  questions 
about  the  closing  hours  of  their  great  friend.  Unfortu 
nately,  no  satisfactory  replies  could  then  be  given,  for,  ow 
ing  to  circumstances  over  which  he  had  no  control,  the 
writer  could  not  be  present  at  the  closing  scene.  Since 
the  erection  of  the  Astor  House,  Mr.  Webster  never  had 
any  other  stopping-place  while  in  New  York. 

When  the  remains  of  Major  Edward  Webster  were 
brought  home  from  Mexico,  his  sorrow-stricken  father  was 
sensibly  affected  by  the  alacrity  with  which  the  "  citizen 
soldiery"  of  Boston  paraded  to  pay  martial  honors  to  the 
gallant  volunteer.  And  carefully  did  he  garner  up  every 


128  PRIVATE      LIFE     OF 

anecdote  of  his  son's  services  from  those  -who  were  asso 
ciated  with  him  in  the  formation  of  the  Massachusetts 
Regiment  and  its  campaign  in  Mexico.  On  one  occasion 
the  writer  presented  him  with  a  sprig  of  laurel,  with  which 
a  melancholy  interest  was  associated.  Just  before  em 
barking  for  Mexico,  Major  Webster  paid  a  farewell  visit 
to  some  estimable  friends  who  reside  on  the  banks  of  the 
Merrimack,  in  Newburyport,  and  in  a  stroll  culled  a  laurel 
flower.  "  Do  you  intend  to  carry  with  you  materials  for 
a  victor's  wreath  ?"  inquired  the  companion  of  his  walk. 
"  No,"  he  replied ;  "  but  you  may  plant  the  slip,  and  1 
will  endeavor  to  prove  worthy  of  the  wreath  on  my  re 
turn."  The  slip  took  root,  flourished,  and  is  now  a  beau 
tiful  shrub ;  and  as  Mr.  Webster  heard  its  history,  he 
gazed  upon  the  sprig  taken  from  it  as  though  he  wished 
that  his  son  could  also  have  been  spared,  and  laid  it  away 
carefully  among  his  treasured  mementoes.  Such  relics 
were  sacred  in  his  eyes,  and  many  an  autographic  or  floral 
trifle  did  he  hallow  toward  the  close  of  his  life,  by  pre 
senting  it  to  some  friend  with  words  never  to  be  forgotten 
by  the  recipient. 

Few  men  who  have  ever  figured  at  all  in  the  National 
Legislature  have  ever  had  as  little  to  do  with  state  gov 
ernments  as  Mr.  "Webster ;  and  it  was  in  alluding  to  this 
fact  that  he  once  made  the  following  remarks,  while  upon 
a  visit  to  the  city  of  Syracuse  : 

"  It  has  so  happened  that  all  the  public  services  which 
I  have  rendered  in  the  world,  in  my  day  and  generation, 
have  been  connected  with  the  general  government.  I 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  129 

think  I  ousrht  to  make  an  exception.  I  was  ten  days  a 
member  of  the  Massachusetts  Legislature  (laughter),  and 
I  turned  my  thoughts  to  the  search  of  some  good  object  in 
which  I  could  be  useful  in  that  position  ;  and  after  much 
reflection,  I  introduced  a  bill  which,  with  the  general  con 
sent  of  both  Houses  of  the  Massachusetts  Legislature,  pass 
ed  into  a  law,  and  is  now  a  law  of  the  state,  which  enacts 
that  no  man  in  the  state  shall  catch  trout  in  any  other 
manner  than  in  the  old  way,  with  an  ordinary  hook  and 
line.  (Great  laughter.)  With  that  exception,  I  never 
was  connected  for  an  hour  with  any  state  government  in 
my  life.  I  never  held  office,  high  or  low,  under  any  state 
government.  Perhaps  that  was  my  misfortune. 

"At  the  age  of  thirty  I  was  in  New  Hampshire  prac 
ticing  law,  and  had  some  clients.  John  Taylor  GHlman, 
who  for  fourteen  years  was  governor  of  the  state,  thought 
that,  a  young  man  as  I  was,  I  might  be  fit  to  be  an  At 
torney  General  of  the  State  of  New  Hampshire,  and  he 
nominated  me  to  the  Council ;  and  the  Council  taking  it 
into  their  deep  consideration,  and  not  happening  to  be  of 
the  same  politics  as  the  governor  and  myself,  voted,  three 
out  of  five,  that  I  was  not  competent,  and  very  likely  they 
were  right.  (Laughter.)  So  you  see,  gentlemen,  I  never 
gained  promotion  in  any  state  government." 

The  opinion  that  Mr.  Webster  entertained  of  his  great 
compeer  Mr.  Clay,  as  here  recorded,  from  a  note  taken  at 
the  time  and  when  the  latter  was  on  his  death- bed,  gives 
us  a  new  insight  into  his  character.  It  was  uttered  at  his 
own  table,  and  is  as  follows: 

F  2 


130  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

"  Mr.  Clay  is  a  great  man,  beyond  all  question  a  true 
patriot.  He  has  done  much  for  his  country.  He  ought 
long  ago  to  have  been  elected  President.  I  think,  how 
ever,  he  was  never  a  man  of  books — a  hard  student,  but 
he  has  displayed  remarkable  genius.  I  never  could  imag 
ine  him  sitting  comfortably  in  his  library,  and  reading 
quietly  out  of  the  great  books  of  the  past.  He  has  been 
too  fond  of  the  world  to  enjoy  any  thing  like  that.  He  has 
been  too  fond  of  excitement — he  has  lived  up^n  it ;  he  has 
been  too  fond  of  company,  not  enough  alone  ;  and  has  had 
few  resources  within  himself.  Now  a  man  who  can  not, 
to  some  extent,  depend  upon  himself  for  happiness,  is  to 
my  mind  one  of  the  unfortunate.  But  Clay  is  a  great 
man,  and  if  he  ever  had  animosities  against  me,  I  forgive 
him  and  forget  them." 

On  one  occasion,  during  a  temporary  illness,  Mr.  Web 
ster  received  a  visit,  in  his  chamber  at  Marshfield,  from  an 
old  friend  who  lived  about  thirty  miles  off.  After  a  long 
talk  about  the  olden  times,  the  visitor  touched  upon  the 
misfortunes  and  reverses  he  had  experienced,  and  inci 
dentally  mentioned  that  he  was  anxious  to  obtain  a  good 
cow.  Mr.  Webster  listened  attentively,  but  said  not  a 
word.  When  the  friend  had  risen  to  go,  however,  he  sum 
moned  Porter  Wright  into  his  presence,  and  told  him  to 
show  his  friend  the  herd  of  cattle,  and  to  deliver  into  his 
possession  any  one  of  the  cows  which  he  might  fancy. 
The  animal  selected,  and  most  gratefully  accepted,  was 
an  Alderney,  and  worth  about  fifty  dollars.  And  this  is 
only  one  of  many  similar  instances  which  might  and 


DANIEL      WEBSTER.  131 

will  be  recorded  to  the  astonishing  liberality  of  Mr.  Web 
ster. 

The  following  neat  and  graceful  speech  was  delivered 
before  the  Agricultural  Convention,  held  in  the  City  of 
Washington  in  June,  1852,  on  the  occasion  of  the  society's 
calling  upon  Mr.  Webster  to  pay  their  respects. 

"  MR.  WILDER,  AND  GENTLEMEN  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES 
AGRICULTURAL  SOCIETY, — I  am  happy  to  see  you  one  and 
all.  You  do  me  no  more  than  justice  when  you  call  me 
farmer  of  Marshfield.  My  father  was  a  farmer,  and  I  am 
a  farmer.  When  a  boy  among  my  native  hills  of  New 
Hampshire,  no  cock  crowed  so  early  that  I  did  not  hear 
him,  and  no  boy  ran  with  more  avidity  to  do  errands  at  the 
bidding  of  the  workmen  than  I  did.  You  are  engaged  in 
a  noble  enterprise.  The  prosperity  and  glory  of  the  Union 
are  based  upon  the  achievements  of  agriculture. 

"  Gentlemen,  I  will  say  to  you  what  I  have  never  be 
fore  said,  that  when,  at  forty-five  years  of  age,  I  was  called 
to  Dartmouth  College  to  pass  my  second  graduation,  I  de 
termined,  in  my  humble  manner,  to  speak  of  the  agricul 
tural  resources  of  the  country,  and  to  recommend  for  their 
more  full  development  organized  action  and  the  formation 
of  agricultural  societies  ;  and  if  memory  does  not  betray 
me,  it  was  about  the  period  of  time  that  the  first  agricul 
tural  societies  in  this  country  were  formed  in  old  Berk 
shire  and  Philadelphia.  (Loud  cheers  by  delegates  from 
Pennsylvania  and  Massachusetts.)  And  though  I  have 
never  seen  that  unimportant  production  since  that  day, 
the  partiality  of  some  of  my  curious  friends  (bowing  and 


132  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

laughing)  may  be  gratified  by  exploring  among  the  slum 
bering  archives  of  Marshfield.  When,  some  thirty  years 
ago,  I  was  at  Marshfield,  some  of  my  kind  neighbors  made 
a  call  to  inquire  the  state  of  a  matter  involving  a  bit  of 
law,  I  told  them,  *  I  have  come  to  reside  among  you  as  a 
farmer,  and  here  I  talk  neither  politics  nor  law.' 

"  Grentlemen,  I  am  naturally  a  farmer.  I  am  most  ar 
dently  attached  to  agricultural  pursuits,  and  though  I  cul 
tivate  my  lands  with  some  little  care,  yet  from  the  steril 
ity  of  the  soil,  or  from  neglected  husbandry  on  my  part, 
in  consequence  of  my  public  engagements,  they  afford  no 
subsistence  to  myself  and  family.  To  you,  farmers  of  the 
West  and  South,  the  soil  of  Marshfield  may  look  barren 
and  unfruitful.  Sometimes  the  breezes  of  the  broad  At 
lantic  fan  you ;  sometimes,  indeed,  unkindly  suns  smite 
you,  but  I  love  its  quiet  shades,  and  there  I  shall  love  to 
commune  with  you  upon  the  ennobling  pursuit  in  which 
we  are  so  happily  engaged. 

"  Gentlemen,  I  thank  you  for  this  visit,  with  which  you 
have  honored  me.  My  interest  and  my  sympathies  are 
identified  with  yours.  I  shall  remember  you  and  this  oc 
casion  which  has  called  you  together. 

"  I  invoke  for  you  an  abundant  harvest,  and  if  we  meet 
not  again  in  time,  I  doubt  not  that  hereafter  we  shall  meet 
in  a  more  genial  clime,  and  under  a  kinder  sun.  Brother 
farmers,  I  bid  you  good-morning." 

Mr.  Webster  became  a  communicant  of  the  orthodox 
Church  when  in  the  early  prime  of  his  life,  and  the  follow 
ing  simple  but  interesting  incident  has  become  a  fireside 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  133 

tale  in  and  about  the  town  of  Franklin.  The  only  person 
who  occupied  the  pew  with  him  at  the  time  was  a  very 
poor  and  a  very  old  woman,  and  during  the  singing  of  the 
hymn  which  concluded  the  services,  he  offered  a  part  of 
his  book  to  his  companion,  and  the  twain  sang  from  the 
same  page.  The  descendants  of  that  woman,  if  indeed 
there  are  any,  may  well  feel  pleased  to  remember,  and  to 
talk  about  the  scene  in  view  of  the  events  which  have 
since  transpired. 

The  following  incident  illustrates  the  Qoolness  which 
Mr.  Webster  exhibit&d  when  exposed  to  danger.  "When, 
on  one  occasion  at  night,  we  were  returning  from  Elms 
Farm  in  the  autumn  of  1851,  the  entire  train  of  cars  was 
thrown  off  the  track,  and  all  broken  to  pieces,  excepting 
the  car  in  which  he  was  seated.  The  position  into  which 
this  car  was  forced  was  on  the  side  of  a  bank,  at  an  angle 
of  forty-five  degrees.  The  moment  it  was  possible,  the 
passengers  rushed  out  in  the  greatest  consternation,  and 
when  the  writer  hurriedly  urged  him  to  follow  the  crowd, 
he  firmly  retained  his  seat,  and  quietly  replied,  "  Can  you 
inform  me  to  what  part  of  the  world  we  are  traveling  ? 
I  have  paid  my  fare  to  Boston,  and  I  will  thank  the  loco 
motive  to  proceed  to  its  original  destination."  . 

And  when,  a  few  moments  afterward,  he  saw  the  loco 
motive  almost  in  the  centre  of  a  neighboring  field,  and 
knew  that  some  half  dozen  cattle  had  been  killed,  he  re 
peated  his  remarks,  and  threw  all  who  heard  him  into 
good  humor. 


134 


PRIVATE     L 1 F  E     OF 


A.  little  incident  which  occurred  only  a  day  or  two  be 
fore  Mr.  Webster's  death,  illustrates  in  some  degree  the 
power  of  a  strong  will  over  even  an  enfeebled  frame.  A 
document  for  the  State  Department  was  brought  to  him 
to  sign.  His  signature  was  appended,  but  by  a  hand  so 
tremulous  that  it  could  hardly  be  recognized.  "  Bring  me 
another,"  said  Mr.  Webster,  cheerfully,  as  he  looked  upon 
his  work.  "  It  will  never  do  to  send  that  to  Washington; 
they  will  think  it  came  from  a  sick  man."  Then,  nerving 
himself  with  a  strong  effort  of  will,  he  seized  his  pen  again, 
and  affixed  as  bold  and  decided  a  signature  as  ever  in  his 
days  of  youthful,  healthful  prime.  "  There,  that  will 
do,"  said  the  expiring  secretary,  as  he  sank  back  again, 
exhausted. 

The  gracefulness  with  which  Mr.  Webster  was  in  the 
habit  of  doing  even  the  most  trifling  things  can  hardly  be 
better  illustrated  than  by  printing  a  couple  of  his  auto 
graphic  notes,  of  which  he  must  have  written  many  thou 
sands,  in  reply  to  earnest  solicitations.  The  following  were 
addressed  to  the  younger  daughters  of  one  of  his  best 
friends,  R.  B.  Coleman,  Esq. : 

"  DEAR  PHEBE  COLEMAN, 

"  I  was  much  obliged  to  your  mother  for  bringing  you 
to  see  me  when  I  was  at  the  Astor  House.  I  send  you 
my  autograph,  and  pray  you  to  believe  that,  for  your  fa 
ther's  and  mother's  sake,  as  well  as  your  own,  I  shall  al 
ways  be  your  friend, 

"  DANL.  WEBSTER." 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  135 

"  DEAR  Miss  EMELINE  COLEMAN, 

"  I  remember  your  bright  eyes,  and  am  happy  to  send 
you  an  autograph,  accompanied  with  sincere  good  wishes 
for  your  health  and  happiness. 

"  DANL.  WEBSTER." 

These  were  written  from  the  State  Department,  and  at 
a  moment  when  he  was  particularly  pressed  with  the  cares 
of  business. 

As  Mr.  Webster  has  acquired  some  celebrity  as  an  an 
gler,  it  may  gratify  his  piscatorial  friends  to  learn  when 
the  seeds  of  this  art  were  planted  in  his  affections.  In 
the  spring  of  his  fifth  year,  when  a  barefooted,  boy,  he 
happened  to  be  riding  along  a  road  near  his  birth-place, 
on  the  same  horse  with  his  father,  when  the  latter  sud 
denly  exclaimed,  "  Dan,  how  would  you  like  to  catch  a 
trout  ?"  Of  course,  he  replied  that  he  would  like  nothing 
better ;  whereupon  they  dismounted,  and  the  father  cut  a 
hazel  rod,  to  which  he  attached  a  string  and  hook  out  of 
his  pocket,  baited  it  with  a  worm  from  under  a  stone,  and 
told  his  son  to  creep  upon  a  rock  and  carefully  throw  in 
on  the  further  side  of  a  deep  pool.  The  boy  did  as  he  was 
bidden,  hooked  a  fish,  lost  his  balance,  and  tumbled  into 
the  water  over  his  head,  and  was  drawn  ashore  by  his 
father,  with  a  pound  trout  trailing  behind.  It  has  hap 
pened  to  the  writer  to  see  the  pool  in  which  this  trout  was 
captured. 

And  it  may  be  mentioned  as  rather  a  singular  fact,  that 
the  only  law  which  he  drew  up  and  caused  to  be  passed, 


136  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

when  for  a  short  time  in  the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts, 
was  a  law  for  the  protection  of  the  common  trout  and  other 
game  fish. 

A  correspondent  furnishes  the  following  anecdote  :  "  It 
will  be  recollected  that  Mr.  Webster's  continuance  in  Mr. 
Tyler's  cabinet  caused  considerable  shyness  on  the  part 
of  many  of  his  old  political  associates  toward  him.  After 
a  brief  period,  the  illustrious  statesman  concluded  the 
celebrated  treaty  with  England,  which  won  for  him  a 
world-wide  renown.  At  this  juncture  a  prominent  citizen 
gave  a  splendid  banquet  in  Washington,  at  which  were  a 
large  number  of  senators  and  members  of  the  House  of 
Representatives.  The  convivialities  had  just  commenced, 
when  the  dignified  form  of  Webster  was  seen  entering  the 
parlor,  and,  as  he  advanced,  his  big  eyes  surveyed  the 
company,  recognizing,  doubtless,  some  of  those  who  had 
become  partially  alienated  from  him.  On  the  instant,  up 
sprung  a  distinguished  patriotic  senator  from  one  of  the 
large  Southern  States,  who  exclaimed,  '  Gentlemen,  I  have 
a  sentiment  to  propose  :  The  health  of  our  eminent  citizen, 
the  negotiator  of  the  Ashburton  treaty.'  The  company 
enthusiastically  responded.  Webster  instantly  replied,  'I 
have  also  a  sentiment  for  you  :  The  Senate  of  the  United 
States,  without  which  the  Ashburton  treaty  would  have 
been  nothing,  and  the  negotiator  of  that  treaty  less  than 
nothing.'  The  quickness  and  fitness  of  this  at  once  ban 
ished  every  doubtful  or  unfriendly  feeling.  The  company 
clustered  around  the  magnate,  whose  sprightly  and  edify 
ing  conversation  never  failed  to  excite  admiration,  and  the 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  137 

remainder  of  the  evening  was  spent  in  a  manner  most 
agreeable  to  all." 

About  the  year  1820,  Mr.  Webster  was  accustomed  to 
spend  the  summer  months  at  Dorchester,  Massachusetts. 
Upon  his  becoming  an  inhabitant  of  the  town,  he  called 
upon  the  late  Dr.  Codman,  with  whom  he  held  similar  re 
ligious  opinions,  and  remarked,  "  Sir,  I  am  come  to  be  one 
of  your  parishioners — not  one  of  your  fashionable  ones  ; 
but  you  will  find  me  in  my  seat  both  in  the  morning  and 
in  the  afternoon."  He  was  true  to  his  word,  and  a  friend 
ship  commenced  between  him  and  his  pastor  which  con 
tinued  till  the  death  of  the  latter,  a  few  years  since,  and 
to  which  Mr.  Webster  alluded,  shortly  before  his  own  de 
parture,  in  terms  of  affectionate  remembrance.  Dr.  Cod 
man  was  accustomed  to  relate  the  following  anecdote  of 
Mr.  Webster,  which  shows,  in  a  singular  degree,  the  won 
derful  power  of  fascination  which  the  great  orator  possessed 
— the  unspoken  eloquence,  if  it  may  so  be  termed,  of  his 
commanding  appearance : 

One  Sunday  afternoon  the  services  of  the  church  were 
to  be  conducted  by  a  young  student  from  Andover,  who 
was  for  the  first  time  to  address  a  large  assembly.  He 
commenced  reading  the  opening  hymn,  but  as  he  proceed 
ed,  his  voice  faltered,  and  he  concluded  with  difficulty. 
He  sat  down,  pleading  inability  to  proceed  with  the  other 
exercises,  which  the  doctor  accordingly  conducted  in  his 
stead. 

When  questioned,  after  church,  as  to  the  cause  of  his 
strange  behavior,  he  replied,  that  he  felt  ashamed  to  ac- 


138 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OP 


knowledge  the  truth ;  but  it  was,  to  use  his  own  expres 
sion,  "  those  great,  black,  piercing  eyes  in  the  broad  aisle 
that  frightened  every  idea  from  my  head."  And  he  knew 
not,  till  he  was  then  told,  that  Daniel  Webster  was  a  mem 
ber  of  the  congregation. 

Among  the  items  of  piscatorial  information  which  have 
dropped  from  the  lips  of  Mr.  Webster  are  the  following : 
When  he  was  a  boy,  the  imperial  salmon,  as  well  as  shad, 
annually  visited  the  Merrimack  River  in  immense  num 
bers  ;  and  among  the  discoveries  that  he  then  made  was 
this,  that  while  the  latter  fish  invariably  and  exclusively 
ascended  the  Winnipiseogee,  the  former  never  failed  to 
continue  their  journey  further  up  the  Merrimack.  It 
often  happened,  too,  that  they  left  the  tide- water  in  com 
pany,  but  as  surely  as  they  approached  their  parting-place 
they  parted  in  masses,  and  were  soon  as  widely  removed 
from  each  other  as  honest  politicians  are  from  fanatical 
abolitionists.  The  discovery  in  question  prompted  inves 
tigation,  when  it  was  found  that  the  temperature  of  the 
two  streams  was  very  different ;  for  while  one  of  them 
was  rather  warm,  and  ran  out  of  the  great  Lake  AVinni- 
piseogee,  the  other  flowed  from  the  ice-cold  springs  of  the 
White  Mountain;  and  the  further  fact  was  ascertained, 
that  while  the  shad  preferred  to  cast  its  spawn  in  deep 
and  quiet  waters,  the  salmon  accomplished  the  same  end 
in  the  most  shallow  and  rapid  streams  among  the  hills. 

Mr.  Webster  also  once  mentioned  to  the  writer  the  fol 
lowing  circumstances  of  a  kindred  character.  In  speak 
ing  of  the  blue-fish  (the  tailor  of  Chesapeake  Bay),  he  said 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  139 

that  its  favorite  food  at  the  North. was  the  moss-bunker  or 
bony  herring,  and  that  it  was  one  of  the  very  few  fish 
which  masticate  their  food  instead  of  swallowing  it  whole ; 
and  hence  it  is  that  their  line  of  travel  is  usually  desig 
nated  by  an  oily  scum  which  covers  the  water  when  a 
school  is  swimming  by.  This  scum  is  designated  by  the 
fishermen  as  a  slick,  and  when  one  of  them  is  seen  upon 
the  surface  of  the  ocean  the  fisherman  is  certain  of  get 
ting  into  a  school  of  blue-fish,  and  of  course  enjoys  fine- 
sport. 

In  speaking  of  the  tautog  or  black-fish,  he  also  men 
tioned  the  singular  circumstance,  that  it  was  within  his 
recollection  wher  this  fish  was  entirely  unknown  in  Mas 
sachusetts  Bay,  though  abundant  there  at  the  present 
time.  One  Captain  Crocker  transported  from  Buzzard's 
Bay  to  Massachusetts  Bay,  some  fifteen  years  ago,  a  large 
number  of  these  fish,  a  subscription  having  been  raised  by 
gentlemen  of  Boston  to  defray  the  expenses.  This  is  the 
origin  of  the  black-fish  in  Massachusetts  Bay.  The  writer 
happens  to  know  from  experience  that  it  is  not  taken  as 
far  south  as  Chesapeake  Bay,  excepting  once  and  a  while 
one  in  the  harbor  of  Charleston,  whose  ancestors  were 
transported  there  a  few  years  ago  by  way  of  experiment. 
It  is  also  his  opinion  that  the  Maskelonge  was  so  named 
by  the  French,  and  means  long  mask  ;  and  the  term  pick 
erel,  he  thinks,  belongs  properly  to  the  pike  when  half 
grown.  In  speaking  of  the  trout,  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
calling  him  the  "highway  robber  of  the  streams;"  and 
all  trout  fishers  will  perceive  the  appropriateness  of  the  ex 
pression. 


140  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

On  one  occasion  (when  first  Secretary  of  State,  but  at 
home  on  a  brief  visit),  he  happened  to  be  out  fishing  for 
mackerel  in  his  smack,  off  Marshfield.  The  fish  were 
abundant,  and  there  was  quite  a  number  of  local  fisher 
men  on  the  ground.  While  the  sport  was  at  its  height, 
however,  Mr.  Webster  discovered  in  the  offing,  rapidly  ap 
proaching,  what  he  supposed  to  be  a  stranger  sail.  He 
questioned  Seth  Peterson  in  regard  to  the  matter,  and  was 
convinced  that  his  suspicions  and  fears  were  correct ; 
whereupon  he  impatiently  demanded  in  what  direction, 
with  the  present  wind,  the  smack  could  sail  the  fastest? 
The  reply  was,  "With  her  eye  toward  Halifax;"  when 
Mr.  Webster  exclaimed,  "  It's  a  hard  case,  Skipper,  but 
press  forward  with  all  speed,  for  the  master  of  yonder  ves 
sel  is  evidently  an  office-seeker.'1'' 

The  truth  was,  there  lived  a  man  in  the  neighboring 
town  of  Scituate  who  had  for  months  past  been  bothering 
him  for  an  appointment,  so  that  the  fears  of  the  Secretary 
were  well  grounded. 

Forty  years  ago  a  journey  from  Washington  City  to 
New  England  was  an  important  undertaking,  and  during 
the  early  spring  months  almost  an  impossibility.  The 
consequence  was,  that,  at  the  adjournment  of  Congress,  a 
party  of  members  from  the  North  would  sometimes  club 
together,  and,  chartering  a  comfortable  vessel,  return  home 
by  water.  Of  such  a  party  was  Mr.  Webster  a  member  in 
the  spring  of  1812,  and,  though  they  anticipated  a  tedious 
voyage,  he  was  the  only  individual  who  had  the  sagacity 
to  take  with  him  a  collection  of  books.  Of  all  those  who 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  141 

profited  "by  these  books,  there  was  one  honorable  gentle 
man  who  was  more  famous  for  his  much  speaking  than 
for  his  wisdom,  and  in  this  particular  not  unlike  some  of 
his  successors  of  the  present  day.  The  first  book  that  he 
lighted  upon  was  Gulliver's  Travels,  and  in  this  he  was 
so  intensely  interested  as  to  read  it  through  a  number  of 
times,  at  the  expense  occasionally  of  sweet  sleep  and  warm 
dinners ;  and  when  he  returned  the  volume,  he  thanked 
Mr.  Webster  for  the  use  thereof,  told  him  it  was  one  of 
the  most  interesting  books  he  had  ever  read,  and  then 
added,  "Do  you  really  believe,  sir,  that  it  is  an  authentic 
record?"  "As  a  matter  of  course,"  replied  Mr.  Webster, 
"since  it  is  distinguished  for  its  remarkable  minuteness" 

Many  years  ago,  when  Mr.  Webster  was  traveling 
through  the  State  of  Ohio,  accompanied  by  a  friend,  he 
chanced  to  stumble  upon  a  jovial  party  of  Buckeye  farm 
ers  who  were  enjoying  the  sport  of  a  turkey-shooting 
match.  Having  pulled  up  his  horses  for  the  purpose  of 
satisfying  his  curiosity,  he  was  invited  to  try  his  hand, 
and  accepted  the  offer.  He  selected  what  he  thought 
one  of  the  best  rifles,  examined  it  with  the  air  of  a  good 
shot,  raised  it  to  his  eye,  and  sent  a  bullet  directly 
through  the  centre  of  the  target.  The  biggest  of  the  tur 
keys  was  immediately  presented  to  him,  and  then  the 
Buckeye  gentlemen  worked  themselves  into  a  state  of  ex 
citement  as  to  who  the  stranger  marksman  could  be. 
They  invited  him  to  partake  of  a  dinner  with  them  at  the 
adjoining  tavern,  and  he  assented.  While  at  the  table, 
Mr.  Webster's  friend  thought  it  his  duty  to  introduce  the 


142 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 


"  great  unknown"  to  the  company  ;  and,  having  done  so, 
what  was  their  astonishment  to  learn  that  he  was  the 
same  man  who  had  delivered  a  famous  speech  in  Congress. 
He,  of  course,  gratified  his  newly-made  friends  by  address 
ing  them  a  few  appropriate  remarks ;  and  when  he  con 
tinued  his  journey,  they  accompanied  him  on  the  way  a 
distance  of  twenty  miles.  And  they  tried  hard,  too,  to 
induce  him  to  make  another  of  his  "  crack  shots ;"  but 
he  was,  of  course,  too  sagacious  to  run  the  risk  of  losing 
his  recently-acquired  reputation. 

A  writer  in  the  "  Virginia  Advocate,"  who  happened  to 
hear  Mr.  Webster's  speech  in  reply  to  Colonel  Hayne,  thus 
uniquely  chronicled  his  opinion  of  the  orator  : 

"  He  was  a  totally  different  thing  from  any  public 
speaker  I  ever  heard.  I  sometimes  felt  as  if  I  were  look 
ing  at  a  mammoth  treading,  at  an  equable  and  stately 
pace,  his  native  cane-brake ;  and,  without  apparent  con 
sciousness,  crushing  obstacles  which  nature  had  never 
designed  as  impediments  to  him." 

On  one  occasion,  in  1834,  just  as  Mr.  Webster  had  risen 
in  his  seat  to  present  a  memorial  to  the  Senate,  a  person 
seated  in  the  gallery,  and  having  the  appearance  of  a 
preacher,  suddenly  shouted  out,  "  My  friends,  the  country 
is  on  the  brink  of  destruction.  Be  sure  that  you  act  on 
correct  principles.  I  warn  you  to  act  as  your  consciences 
may  approve.  Grod  is  looking  down  upon  you,  and  if  you 
act  upon  correct  principles  you  will  get  safely  through." 
As  soon  as  he  had  made  an  end  of  this  brief  oration,  he 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  143 

very  leisurely  stepped  back,  and  made  his  way  out  of  the 
gallery  before  the  officers  of  the  House  had  time  to  reach 
him.  The  President  and  Senate  were  all  surprised,  and  it 
was  some  time  before  the  usual  tranquillity  was  re  tored. 
During  the  commotion  Mr.  Webster  had  remained  stand 
ing,  and  the  first  sentence  that  he  uttered  was  this :  "As 
the  gentleman  in  the  gallery  has  concluded,. I ivill pro 
ceed  with  my  remarks" 

When  Mr.  Webster  was  at  the  Capon  Springs,  the  yeo 
manry  of  that  portion  of  Virginia  came  a  distance  of  fifty 
miles  to  shake  him  by  the  hand,  one  old  Revolutionary 
soldier  having  walked  no  less  than  fifteen  miles  ;  and  it  is 
said  that  when  he  concluded  the  address  there  delivered, 
an  old  man  went  toward  him  with  tottering  steps,  and, 
having  put  his  arms  around  him,  exclaimed,  "Grod  bless 
you,  for  you  are  the  greatest  and  best  man  in  the  world  !" 
The  address  in  question  had  some  very  eloquent  passages, 
and  produced  a  great  sensation. 

The  following  circumstance  is  a  somewhat  remarkable 
instance  of  the  effect  of  Mr.  Webster's  eloquence.  There 
had  been  a  constitutional  question  pending  between  the 
Charlestown  and  Warren  bridges,  which  connect  the  city 
of  Boston  with  the  main-land,  and  Mr.  Webster  had  deliv 
ered  an  argument  in  favor  of  the  former,  when  the  price 
of  the  shares  thereof  immediately  rose  from  two  hundred 
to  twelve  hundred  dollars. 

A  gentleman  of  Nantucket  once  accosted  a  friend  by 


144  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

saying,  "  I  have  wished  to  see  you  for  some  days,  for  I 
am  in  trouble,  and  wish  your  friendly  advice."  "  What 
can  it  be  ?"  replied  the  other.  "  Why,  I  have  a  lawsuit, 
and  Webster  is  opposed  to  me  ;  what  shall  I  do?"  "My 
advice  is,"  was  the  answer,  "  that  your  only  chance  of 
escape  is  to  send  to  Smyrna  and  import  a  young  earth 
quake  /" 

When  Mr.  Webster  was  in  Charleston,  South  Carolina, 
in  1847,  he  concluded  a  brief  speech  in  the  following 
manner : 

"  Gentlemen,  allow  me  to  tell  you  of  an  incident.  At 
Raleigh,  a  gentleman  purposing  to  call  on  me,  asked  his 
son.,  a  little  lad,  if  he  did  not  wish  to  go  and  see  Mr.  Web 
ster.  The  boy  answered,  *  Is  it  that  Mr.  Webster  who 
made  the  spelling-book,  and  sets  me  so  many  hard  lessons ; 
if  so,  I  never  want  to  see  him  as  long  as  I  live.' 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  I  am  that  Mr.  Webster  who  holds 
sentiments  on  some  subjects  not  altogether  acceptable,  I 
arn  sorry  to  say,  to  some  portions  of  the  South.  But  I  set 
no  lessons.  I  make  no  spelling-books.  If  I  spell  out  some 
portions  of  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States  in  a  man 
ner  different  from  that  practiced  by  others,  I  readily  con 
cede,  nevertheless,  to  all  others  a  right  to  disclaim  my  spell 
ing,  and  adopt  an  orthography  more  suitable  to  their  own 
opinions,  leaving  all  to  that  general  public  judgment  to 
which  we  must,  in  the  end,  all  submit."  And  when  he 
took  his  seat,  the  following  toast  was  submitted  :  "  Here's 
to  the  agreeable  schoolmaster — who  sets  no  lessons." 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  145 

At  the  time  that  Colonel  Hayne  made  his  attack  upon 
Mr.  Webster  in  the  Senate,  that  paragon  of  a  man  and  po 
litical  writer,  Joseph  Gales,  Esq.,  happened  to  be  present. 
Hearing  that  Mr.  Webster  intended  to  reply,  and  would 
probably  be  quite  brief,  he  resolved  to  try  his  hand,  for 
this  particular  occasion,  at  his  long-neglected  vocation  of 
short-hand  reporter.  He  undertook  the  task,  but  finding 
that  the  "  reply"  was  likely  to  occupy  a  number  of  hours 
instead  of  some  thirty  minutes,  the  magnitude  of  the  labor 
that  it  would  be  to  write  out  his  notes  appeared  so  formi 
dable  that  he  shrunk  from  it  as  an  impossibility,  with  the 
many  engagements  that  demanded  his  attention.  The 
friends  of  Mr.  Webster  urged  upon  Mr.  G-ales  the  impera 
tive  necessity  of  writing  out  the  speech,  but  the  prospect 
was  gloomy,  when  suddenly  an  intimation  was  received 
from  Mrs.  Graies  (who  had  in  former  years  been  in  the 
habit  of  assisting  her  husband  in  elaborating  his  reports) 
that  she  would  do  all  in  her  power  to  write  out  the  speech 
in  full.  The  result  was,  that  in  the  course  of  a  week  a 
copy  was  presented  to  Mr.  Webster  in  the  handwriting 
of  Mrs.  G-ales,  and  when  published  in  the  National  In 
telligencer  had  an  unprecedented  circulation.  The  orig 
inal  notes,  adorned  with  a  few  unimportant  alterations 
in  the  handwriting  of  Mr.  Webster  himself,  were  subse 
quently  neatly  bound  in  a  volume,  and  now  constitute 
one  of  the  attractions  of  Mr.  Graies'  private  library.  And 
the  writer  of  this  paragraph  has  been  informed  by  Mr. 
Gales  that  the  superb  speech  in  question  was  far  more 
brilliant  and  impressive  in  its  delivery  than  it  now  ap 
pears  upon  paper. 

a 


146  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

In  the  great  argumentative  conflict  between  Mr.  Web 
ster  and  Colonel  Hayne,  the  latter  complained  of  the  form 
er's  assault  upon  him  instead  of  Colonel  Benton,  who  had 
preceded  him  in  the  debate,  and  who  was  the  originator 
of  the  controversy.  Mr.  Webster,  who  had  never  thought 
proper  before  that  time  to  notice  Colonel  Benton  in  debate, 
replied  to  Colonel  Hayne,  "  that  it  was  a  matter  of  no  con 
sequence  who  was  the  drawer,  he  had  found  a  responsible 
endorser,  and  he  chose  to  look  to  him." 

At  a  dinner  party  a  few  evenings  thereafter,  Mr.  Web 
ster  and  Mr.  Preston,  of  South  Carolina  (Hayne's  successor 
in  the  Senate),  happened  to  be  placed  opposite  to  each 
other  at  table,  and  were  indulging  in  sportive  conversation, 
when  (in  reference  to  something  Mr.  Webster  playfully  ad 
dressed  to  a  lady  beside  him)  Mr.  Preston  observed  to  Mr. 
Webster,  "  I  will  maintain  any  thing  the  lady  asserts." 
Mr.  Webster  replied,  "  that  he  should  require  no  endorser 
for  the  lady."  "  And  yet,"  rejoined  Mr.  Preston,  "  I  have 
known  you  to  resort  to  an  endorser  in  preference  to  a  draw 
er."  The  allusion  was  manifest,  and  though  appreciated 
for  its  wit,  was  more  highly  thought  of  as  evidencing  the 
elevated  tone  of  feeling  which  could  render  subservient  to 
purposes  of  social  pleasure  even  the  sharpest  weapons  of 
political  warfare. 

On  the  evening  following  the  delivery  of  the  reply  to 
Colonel  Hayne  there  was  a  reception  at  the  White  House, 
and  the  rival  champions  happening  to  be  present  on  the 
occasion,  were  of  course  the  lions.  The  east-room  was 
crowded  to  excess,  and  while  Mr.  Webster  stood  at  one  end. 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  147 

chatting  with  his  friends,  apparently  but  little  exhausted 
by  the  exertion  of  the  day,  severe  as  it  had  been,  the  flush 
of  excitement  still  lingering  upon  his  noble  countenance, 
Colonel  Hayne  stood  at  the  other,  receiving  the  congrat 
ulations  of  his  friends,  and  bearing  himself  like  a  Southern 
gentleman,  as  he  was  in  every  particular,  and  as  if  the 
idea  of  being  numbered  with  the  vanquished  had  never 
entered  his  mind.  With  others,  he  went  up  to  compliment 
Mr.  Webster  on  his  brilliant  effort ;  but,  before  he  had  a 
chance  to  speak,  the  former  accosted  him  with  his  usual 
courtesy,  "  How  are  you  this  evening,  Colonel  Hayne  ?" 
To  which  the  colonel  replied,  good-humoredly,  "  None  the 
better  for  you,  sir  /" 

Portraits  and  busts  of  Mr.  Webster  have  been  executed 
almost  without  number,  but  no  artist  has  had  better  op- 
portunities  of  representing  him,  or  has  succeeded  more  com 
pletely  than  Mr.  Healey.  His  picture  of  the  United  States 
Senate  Chamber,  as  it  appeared  during  the  delivery  of  the 
famous  reply  to  Colonel  Hayne,  is  a  production  of  merit 
and  value,  and  a  worthy  representation  of  the  memorable 
scene.  The  subject  was,  indeed,  a  passive  one,  and  did  not 
admit  of  any  display  of  merely  physical  action,  but  the  in 
terest  was  that  of  pure  intellect  and  matter-of-fact  patri 
otism,  wherein  it  differed  materially  from  what  are  gen 
erally  termed  historical  paintings.  It  is,  however,  an  his 
torical  picture  of  a  high  order,  for  it  contains  veritable  por 
traits  of  one  hundred  and  thirty  persons,  a  large  propor 
tion  of  whom  are  distinguished  American  statesmen  ; 
while  the  remainder  are  composed  of  some  of  the  chief 


148  PRIVATE      L I  F  E     OF 

literary  men  of  the  country,  and  a  few  of  the  ladies  who 
adorned  the  society  of  Washington  City  at  the  time  of  the 
great  debate.  In  the  centre  of  this  truly  splendid  audi 
ence  stands  Mr.  Webster,  noble  beyond  compare  in  mere 
stature,  but  with  a  flood  of  the  most  elevated  thought 
beaming  from  his  countenance.  He  stands  directly  in 
front  of  the  President  of  the  Senate  (Mr.  Calhoun) ;  but  in 
stead  of  looking  at  him,  at  his  antagonist  (Colonel  Hayne), 
or  at  the  audience,  he  seems  to  be  in  a  momentary  trance, 
with  his  eyes  fixed  on  vacancy,  as  if  marshaling  his 
thoughts  for  this  burst  of  eloquence. 

"  While  the  Union  lasts,  we  have  high,  exciting,  grati 
fying  prospects  spread  out  before  us,  for  us  and  our  chil 
dren.  Beyond  that  I  seek  not  to  penetrate  the  vail.  God 
grant  that  in  my  day,  at  least,  that  curtain  may  not  rise. 
Grod  grant  that  on  my  vision  never  may  be  opened  what 
lies  behind.  When  my  eyes  shall  be  turned  to  behold, 
for  the  last  time,  the  sun  in  heaven,  may  I  not  see  him 
shining  on  the  broken  and  dishonored  fragments  of  a  once 
glorious  Union  ;  on  states  dissevered,  discordant,  belliger 
ent  ;  on  a  land  rent  with  civil  feuds,  or  drenched,  it  may 
be,  in  fraternal  blood  !  Let  their  last  feeble  and  linger 
ing  glance  rather  behold  the  gorgeous  ensign  of  the  Re 
public,  now  known  and  honored  throughout  the  earth, 
still  full  high  advanced,  its  arms  and  trophies  streaming 
in  their  original  lustre,  not  a  stripe  erased  or  polluted,  nor 
a  single  star  obscured  ;  bearing  for  its  motto  no  such  mis 
erable  interrogatory  as,  What  is  all  this  worth?  Nor 
those  other  words  of  delusion  and  folly,  Liberty  first,  and 
Union  afterward;  but  every  where  spread  all  over  in 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  149 

characters  of  living  light,  blazing  on  all  its  ample  folds, 
as  they  float  over  the  sea  and  over  the  land,  and  in  every 
wind  under  the  whole  heavens,  that  other  sentiment  dear 
to  every  true  American  heart,  LIBERTY  AND  UNION,  NOW 

AND  FOREVER,   ONE  AND  INSEPARABLE  !" 

Mr.  Healey's  picture  was  the  result  of  several  laborious 
years,  and  he  may  congratulate  himself  with  the  reflection 
that  he  has  not  only  produced  a  work  of  excellence  in  it 
self,  both  as  a  gallery  of  portraits,  but  as  an  historical  pic 
ture,  and  one  also  which  will  increase  in  value  continually. 

When  he  first  formed  the  purpose  of  painting  this  pic 
ture,  he  was  engaged  in  executing  a  series  of  portraits  of 
the  Presidents  of  the  United  States,  and  other  distinguish 
ed  American  statesmen,  under  a  commission  from  the  late 
King  of  the  French,  who  desired  to  add  them  to  the  great 
historical  collection  in  the  Royal  Museum  of  Versailles. 
Mr.  Healey  was  also  subsequently  engaged  in  painting 
the  portraits  of  historical  personages  in  England,  for  the 
same  patron  and  the  same  destination,  at  which  time  he 
was  kindly  permitted  to  suspend  this  commission,  in  order 
that  he  might  repair  to  America  and  paint  from  life  the 
likenesses  introduced  in  the  large  picture.  Before  he  could 
resume  his  labors  in  England,  the  revolution  of  1848  term 
inated  the  royal  commission ;  but  he  returned  to  France 
with  the  fruit  of  his  studies  and  labors  in  this  country, 
that  he  might  be  able  to  mature  the  composition  and  com 
plete  the  execution  of  his  great  picture,  with  the  advantage 
of  constant  reference  to  the  productions  of  the  old  masters, 
and  in  the  spring  of  1851  the  work  was  completed. 

The  last  daguerreotype  portrait  of  Mr.  Webster,  taken 


150 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 


in  July  last,  was  presented  by  him  to  the  writer,  and,  it 
may  be  imagined,  is  treasured  with  special  care  ;  and  the 
only  full-length  daguerreotype  of  him  in  existence  is  the 
one  in  the  writer's  possession.  Both  of  the  above  were 
taken  at  Elms  Farm  :  the  latter  at  the  suggestion  of  the 
writer,  who  had  asked  Mr.  "Webster  to  seat  himself  for 
only  a  moment,  directly  in  front  of  his  residence,  under 
a  tree  that  he  had  planted  thirty  years  ago. 

A  sanctimonious  lady  once  called. upon  Mr.  Webster,  in 
Washington,  with  a  long  and  pitiful  story  about  her  mis 
fortunes  and  poverty,  and  asked  him  for  a  donation  of 
money  to  defray  her  expenses  to  her  home  in  a  "Western 
city.  He  listened  with  all  the  patience  he  could  manage, 
expressed  his  surprise  that  she  should  have  called  upon 
him  for  money  simply  because  he  was  an  officer  of  the 
government,  and  that,  too,  when  she  was  a  total  stranger 
to  him,  reprimanded  her  in  very  plain  language  for  her 
improper  conduct,  and  handed  her  a  note  of  fifty  dollars. 

The  following  characteristic  anecdote  is  related  of  Mr. 
Webster,  and  is  said  to  have  occurred  when  he  was  much 
engaged  in  the  Senate,  at  a  period  of  great  excitement  in 
the  councils  of  the  nation  : 

He  had  called  upon  the  cashier  of  the  bank  where  he 
kept  an  account,  for  the  purpose  of  getting  a  draft  dis 
counted,  when  that  gentleman  expressed  some  surprise, 
and  casually  inquired  why  he  wanted  so  much  money? 
"  To  spend  ;  to  buy  bread  and  meat,"  replied  Mr. Webster, 
a  little  annoyed  at  this  speech. 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  151 

"But,"  returned  the  cashier,  "you  already  have  upon 
deposit  in  the  bank  no  less  than  three  thousand  dollars, 
and  I  was  only  wondering  why  you  wanted  so  much 
money." 

This  was  indeed  the  truth,  but  Mr.  Webster  had  forgot 
ten  it.  In  devoting  his  mind  to  the  interests  of  his  coun 
try,  he  had  forgotten  his  own. 

Those  who  have  blamed  Mr.  Webster  for  his  occasional 
apparent  indifference  to  the  questions  which  agitate  the 
public  mind  will  do  well  to  remember  that  his  motto  was, 

that 

"Some  questions  will  improve  by  keeping" 

His  whole  career  as  a  statesman  and  a  diplomatist  has 
illustrated  the  wisdom  of  this  course  of  conduct,  and,  in 
deed,  it  is  the  only  one  upon  which  a  solid  and  permanent 
reputation  can  be  built.  The  history  and  present  position 
of  the  journal  known  as  the  National  Intelligencer  con 
stitute  another  prominent  illustration  of  the  truth  of  the 
motto. 

It  is  undoubtedly  a  fact  beyond  dispute,  that  no  Amer 
ican  has  been  more  frequently  entertained  at  compliment 
ary  dinners,  during  the  last  half  century,  than  Mr.  Web 
ster  ;  and  it  has  occurred  to  the  writer  that  his  readers 
might  be  pleased  to  peruse  the  following  toasts  or  senti 
ments.  They  are  selected  from  a  large  number  of  similar 
character,  and  may  be  considered  as  fairly  echoing  the 
opinions  of  the  public  in  regard  to  their  distinguished 
subject : 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

Bangor. 

Daniel  Webster,  The  pride  of  his  country  and  the  glory  of  human 
nature. 

Halloicdl. 

Our  distinguished  Guest.  The  Granite  State  has  the  honor  of  his  birth, 
the  Bay  State  of  his  residence,  but  to  the  Federal  Union  belong  his  serv 
ices  and  talents. 

The  Granite  State.  She  has  well  deserved  the  name,  since  she  has  pro 
duced  a  mighty  rock,  our  only  defense  against  general  corruption. 

Boston. 

Our  distinguished  Guest.  Worthy  the  noblest  homage  which  freemen 
can  give  or  a  freeman  receive — the  homage  of  their  hearts. 

Concord. 

Daniel  Webster.  A  working-man  of  the  first  order.  New  Hampshire 
rejoiced  in  the  promise  of  the  youth ;  his  country  now  glories  in  the  per 
formance  of  the  man. 

New  York. 

Our  Guest,  Daniel  Webster.  To  his  talents  we  owe  a  most  triumphant 
vindication  of  the  great  principles  of  the  Constitution. 

The  State  of  Massachusetts.  Honored  in  a  citizen  who  is  received  with 
the  acclamations  of  the  world. 

Albany. 

The  Constitution  of  the  United  States  and  Daniel  Webster,  inseparable 
now,  and  inseparable  in  the  records  of  time  and  eternity. 

Syracuse. 

The  Constitution  and  its  greatest  expounder ;  the  Union  and  its  ablest 
defender. 

Baltimore. 

Daniel  Webster.  His  countrymen  award  him  the  proudest  honors  of 
statesmanship,  and  the  republic  has  recorded  his  services  on  the  endur 
ing  pillars  of  her  Union. 

His  country  will  never  forget  that  his  fame  has  extended  her  own 
among  the  nations  of  the  world. 

Capon  Springs. 

Daniel  Webster,  our  distinguished  Guest.  The  jurist  and  statesman,  who 
has  illustrated  the  glory  of  our  country.  The  champion  of  the  Constitu- 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  153 

tion  and  the  Union,  who  has  sown  the  seed  of  constitutional  liberty  broad 
cast  over  the  world. 

Annapolis. 

Daniel  Webster.  Maryland  shows  her  attachment  to  the  Union  by  hon 
oring  its  ablest  defender. 

Cincinnati. 

The  Constitution  of  the  United  States.  Ambiguous  and  obscure  only  to 
the  ambitious  and  corrupt ;  when  assailed  by  such,  may  there  ever  be 
found  among  the  people  a  DANIEL  who  can  interpret  the  writing.  He  may 
be  cast  among  lions,  as  many  as  you  please ;  but  even  there  will  he  be 
found  the  master-spirit. 

The  following  was  sent  to  a  dinner-party  by  a  lady : 

Daniel  Webster. 

"  Westward  the  Eastern  star  has  bent  its  way, 
May  more  than  empire  bless  its  cloudless  ray." 

Charleston. 

Our  Guest.  He  has  a  heart  big  enough  to  comprehend  his  whole  coun 
try — a  head  wise  enough  to  discern  her  best  interests ;  we  cheer  him  on 
his  way  to  view  her  in  all  her  various  aspects ;  well  assured  that  the 
more  he  sees  of  her  the  better  he  will  like  her. 

And  it  may  be  well  to  mention  here  that  the  town  of 
Salem,  Massachusetts,  claims  the  honor  of  having  been  the 
first  to  toast  him  as  the  Defender  of  the  Constitution. 
The  exact  reading  of  the  toast,  as  the  Hon.  Edward  Ev 
erett  informed  the  writer,  was  as  follows  :  "  The  highest 
honors  of  the  Constitution  to  its  ablest  defender." 

Letters  of  inquiry  have  frequently  been  written  to  Mr. 
Webster  respecting  the  authenticity  of  the  famous  speech 
introduced  by  him  as  that  of  John  Adams's,  in  his  dis 
course  on  the  death  of  Adams  and  Jefferson,  at  Faneuil 
Hall,  in  1826,  and  the  following  is  one  of  his  replies.  The 


L54 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 


speech  in  question  was  simply  an  effort,  founded  upon  a 
custom  of  the  ancient  historians. 

"Washington,  December  31st,  1849. 
"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  I  have  had  very  frequent  occasions  to  answer  the  same 
inquiry  as  that  which  you  propose  to  me  in  your  letter  of 
the  26th  of  this  month.  The  speech  to  which  you  refer  is 
my  composition.  The  Congress  of  the  Revolution  sat  with 
closed  doors,  and  there  is  no  report  of  the  speeches  of  mem 
bers  on  adopting  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  We 
only  know  that  John  Adams  spoke  in  favor  of  the  measure 
with  his  usual  power  and  fervor.  In  a  letter,  written  from 
Philadelphia  soon  after  the  Declaration  was  made,  he  said 
it  was  an  event  which  would  he  celebrated  in  time  to 
come  by  bonfires,  illuminations,  and  other  modes  of  public 
rejoicing.  And  on  the  day  of  his  death,  hearing  the  ring 
ing  of  bells,  he  asked  the  occasion,  and  being  told  that  it 
was  the  4th  of  July,  and  that  the  bells  were  ringing  for 
Independence,  he  exclaimed,  '  Independence  forever !" 
These  expressions  were  used,  in  composing  the  speech,  as 
being  characteristic  of  the  man,  his  sentiments,  and  his 
manner  of  speech  and  elocution.  All  the  rest  is  mine. 
"  With  respect,  your  obedient  servant, 

"  DANL.  WEBSTER. 

"  SAMUEL  N.  SWEET,  Esq." 

In  another  letter  upon  the  same  subject,  he  writes, 
u  The  speech  was  written  by  me,  in  my  house  in  Boston, 
the  day  before  the  delivery  of  the  discourse  in  Faneuil 
Hall.  A  poor  substitute,  I  am  sure,  it  would  appear  to 


DANIEL    WEBSTER.  155 

be,  if  we  could  now  see  the  speech  actually  made  by  Mr. 
Adams  on  that  transcendently  important  occasion." 

Mary  Russell  Mitford,  in  her  recently  published  "  Rec 
ollections  of  a  Literary  Life,"  gives  us  the  following  par 
ticulars  : 

"  One  of  the  greatest,  if  not  the  very  greatest,  of  the 
living  orators  of  America,  is,  beyond  all  doubt,  Daniel 
Webster.  That  he  is  also  celebrated  as  a  statesman  and 
a  lawyer,  is  a  matter  of  course  in  that  practical  country, 
where  even  so  high  a  gift  as  eloquence  is  brought  to  bear 
on  the  fortunes  of  individuals  and  the  prosperity  of  the 
commonwealth ;  no  idle  pilaster  placed  for  ornament,  but 
a  solid  column  aiding  to  support  the  building.  A  column, 
indeed,  stately  and  graceful,  with  its  Corinthian  capital, 
gives  no  bad  idea  of  Mr.  "Webster  ;  of  his  tall  and  muscular 
person,  his  massive  features,  noble  head,  and  the  general 
expression  of  placid  strength  by  which  he  is  distinguished. 
This  is  a  mere  fanciful  comparison  ;  but  Sir  Augustus  Call- 
cott's  fine  figure  of  Columbus  has  been  reckoned  very  like 
him — a  resemblance  that  must  have  been  fortuitous,  since 
the  picture  was  painted  before  the  artist  had  ever  seen  the 
celebrated  orator.  When  in  England  some  ten  or  twelve 
years  ago,  Mr.  Webster's  calm  manner  of  speaking  excited 
much  admiration,  and  perhaps  a  little  surprise,  as  con 
trasted  with  the  astounding  and  somewhat  rough  rapidity 
of  progress  which  is  the  chief  characteristic  of  his  native 
land.  And  yet  that  calmness  of  manner  was  just  what 
might  be  expected  from  a  countryman  of  Washington; 
earnest,  thoughtful,  weighty,  wise.  No  visitor  to  London 


156 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 


ever  left  behind  him  pleasanter  recollections,  and  I  hope 
that  the  good  impression  was  reciprocal.  Every  body  was 
delighted  with  his  geniality  and  taste ;  and  he  could  hardly 
fail  to  like  the  people  who  so  heartily  liked  him.  Among 
our  cities  and  our  scenery,  he  admired  that  most  which 
was  most  worthy  of  his  admiration ;  preferring,  in  common 
with  many  of  the  most  gifted  of  his  countrymen,  our  beau 
tiful  Oxford,  whose  winding  streets  exhibit  such  a  con 
densation  of  picturesque  architecture,  mixed  with  water, 
trees,  and  gardens,  with  ancient  costume,  with  eager 
youth,  with  by-gone  associations  and  rising  hope,  cer 
tainly  to  any  of  our  new  commercial  towns,  and  perhaps, 
as  mere  picture,  to  London  herself;  and  carrying  home 
with  him,  as  one  of  the  most  precious  and  characteristic 
memorials  of  the  land  of  his  forefathers,  a  large  collection 
of  architectural  engravings,  representing  our  magnificent 
G-'othic  cathedrals,  and  such  of  our  Norman  castles  and 
Tudor  manor-houses  as  have  escaped  the  barbarities  of 
modern  improvers.  We  are  returning  ourselves  to  that 
style  now ;  but  twelve  years  ago  it  was  his  own  good  taste, 
and  not  the  fashion  of  the  day,  that  prompted  the  prefer 
ence.  I  owe  to  his  kindness,  and  to  that  of  my  admirable 
friend,  Mr.  Kenyon,  who  accompanied  him,  the  honor  and 
pleasure  of  a  visit  from  Mr.  Webster  and  his  amiable  fam 
ily  in  their  transit  from  Oxford  to  Windsor.  My  local  po 
sition  between  these  two  points  of  attraction  has  often  pro 
cured  me  the  gratification  of  seeing  my  American  friends 
when  making  that  journey.  But  during  this  visit  a  little 
circumstance  occurred,  so  characteristic,  so  graceful,  and  so 
gracious,  that  I  can  not  resist  the  temptation  of  relating  it. 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  157 

"  "Walking  in  my  cottage  garden,  we  talked  naturally 
of  the  roses  and  pinks  that  surrounded  us,  and  of  the  dif 
ferent  indigenous  flowers  of  our  island  and  of  the  United 
States.  I  had  myself  had  the  satisfaction  of  sending  to 
my  friend,  Mr.  Theodore  Sedgwick,  a  hamper  containing 
roots  of  many  English  plants  familiar  to  our  poetry ;  the 
common  ivy — how  could  they  want  ivy  who  had  had  no 
time  for  ruins  ? — the  primrose,  and  the  cowslip,  immortal 
ized  by  Shakspeare  and  by  Milton ;  and  the  sweet-scented 
violets,  both  white  and  purple,  of  our  hedgerows  and  our 
lanes  ;  that  known  as  the  violet  in  America  (Mr.  Bryant 
somewhere  speaks  of  it  as  '  the  yellow  violet')  being,  I  sus 
pect,  the  little  wild  pansy  (viola  tricolor),  renowned  as 
the  love-in-idleness  of  Shakspeare's  famous  compliment  to 
Queen  Elizabeth.  Of  these  we  spoke ;  and  I  expressed 
an  interest  in  two  flowers  known  to  me  only  by  the  vivid 
description  of  Miss  Martineau  :  the  scarlet  lily  of  New 
York  and  of  the  Canadian  woods,  and  the  fringed  gentian 
of  Niagara.  I  observed  that  our  illustrious  guest  made 
some  remark  to  one  of  the  ladies  of  the  party  ;  but  I  little 
expected  that,  as  soon  after  his  return  as  seeds  of  these 
plants  could  be  procured,  I  should  receive  a  package  of 
each,  signed  and  directed  by  his  own  hand.  How  much 
pleasure  these  little  kindnesses  give  !  And  how  many 
such  have  come  to  me  from  over  the  same  wide  ocean !" 

As  Coleridge  saidof  Southey,  Mr.Webster  "possessed,  but 
was  not  possessed  by,  his  genius."  No  man  ever  had  his 
powers  more  completely  under  command.  At  a  moment's 
warning  the  vast  stores  of  his  mind  were  ready,  and  the 


158  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

most  impromptu  speech  rolled  from  his  tongue  in  perfect 
composition.  He  was  always  logical  in  conversation — 
this  was  his  great  characteristic — enchained  the  attention 
of  every  listener  by  the  driest  argument,  and  had  a  man 
ner  of  the  most  singularly  mixed  grace  and  power.  His 
eloquence,  when  he  warmed,  was  perfectly  overpowering, 
and  then  he  came  out  with  a  flow  of  poetry  which  would 
hardly  be  thought  possible  from  the  severe  cast  of  his 
mind.  Harriet  Martineau,  who  met  him  at  a  dinner-party 
at  the  British  legation  at  Washington,  said  there  was  no 
merrier  man.  She  describes  him  as  leaning  back  at  his 
ease  on  the  sofa,  shaking  it  with  burst  after  burst  of  laugh 
ter,  telling  stories,  cracking  jokes,  or  smoothly  discoursing 
to  the  perfect  felicity  of  the  logical  part  of  one's  constitu 
tion.  Such  was  his  private  boon  companionship.  Abroad , 
however,  he  was  the  stern,  plain-dressed,  grave  republic 
an  ;  and  the  common  man  who  passed  him  in  the  street 
thought  he  could  read  the  cares  and  responsibilities  of  the 
whole  United  States  government  on  his  great  brow. 

"  As  a  lawyer,  pursuing  his  professional  avocations  in 
the  judicial  courts,"  wrote  the  same  lady,  in  her  "  Socie 
ty  in  America,"  "  and  as  a  member  of  the  Senate,  he  has 
ever  formed  a  striking  character.  In  the  Supreme  Court, 
where  he  has  often  plead  before  the  judges,  and  in  which 
many  of  those  masterly  forensic  arguments  were  delivered 
that  constitute  a  considerable  portion  of  his  published  pro 
ductions,  he  is  described  by  an  eye-witness  as  sometimes 
standing  firm  as  a  rock,  while  listening  to  the  chief  jus 
tice  delivering  a  judgment;  his  large,  cavernous  eyes 
wide  awake,  his  lips  compressed,  and  his  whole  counte- 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  159 

nance  in  that  intent  stillness  which  instantly  fixes  the 
eyes  of  the  stranger.  It  was  not  uncommon  for  him  to 
saunter  into  the  court,  throw  himself  down,  and  lean  back 
against  the  table,  while  seeming  to  see  nothing  about 
him ;  and  there  was  no  knowing  whether  he  would  by- 
and-by  go  away,  or  whether  he  would  rouse  himself  sud 
denly  and  stand  up  to  address  the  judges.  Still,  howev 
er  it  might  turn  out,  it  was  amusing  to  see  how  the  court 
would  fill  after  the  entrance  of  Mr.  Webster,  and  empty 
when  he  had  returned  to  the  Senate  Chamber.  In  his 
pleading,  as  in  his  speaking  in  the  Senate,  it  was  inter 
esting  to  see  one  so  dreamy  and  nonchalant  roused  into 
strange  excitement.  It  was  something  to  watch  him 
moved  with  anxiety  in  the  toil  of  intellectual  conflict ;  to 
see  his  lips  tremble,  his  nostrils  expand,  the  perspiration 
start  upon  his  brow  ;  to  hear  his  voice  vary  with  emotion, 
and  to  trace  the  expression  of  laborious  thought,  while  he 
paused  for  minutes  together,  to  consider  his  notes  and  de 
cide  upon  the  arrangement  of  his  argument. 

"  In  the  Senate  his  services  have  always  been  acknowl 
edged  to  be  invaluable  ;  he  there  displayed  industry,  en 
ergy,  and  sound-headedness.  He  spoke  but  seldom  ;  but 
when  he  did  so,  it  was  generally  on  some  constitutional 
question,  where  his  logical  powers  and  legal  knowledge 
were  brought  into  play,  and  where  his  authority  was  con 
sidered  oracular  by  assemblages  of  the  first  men  in  the 
country.  When  speaking  to  the  Senate,  he  invariably 
manifested  great  earnestness,  and  seemed  to  believe  every 
sentiment  he  uttered ;  and  he  convinced  by  appealing  to 
the  reasoning  powers  of  his  listeners  rather  than  to  their 


160  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

passions.  Before  entering  on  the  delivery  of  a  speech,  on 
one  occasion,  he  might  be  seen,  absent  and  thoughtful, 
making  notes.  When  he  rose,  his  voice  was  moderate 
and  his  manner  quiet,  with  the  slightest  possible  mixture 
of  embarrassment,  his  right  hand  resting  upon  his  desk, 
and  the  left  hanging  by  his  side.  Before  his  first  head 
was  finished,  however,  his  voice  would  rise  so  as  to  fill 
the  chamber,  and  ring  again  to  the  remotest  corner  ;  then 
he  would  fall  back  into  his  favorite  attitude,  with  his  left 
hand  under  his  coat  skirt  and  his  right  in  full  action.  At 
this  moment  the  eye  would  rest  upon  him  as  upon  one 
inspired,  seeing  the  invisible  and  grasping  the  impalpa 
ble.  When  the  vision  had  passed  away,  the  change  was 
astonishing ;  he  sat  at  his  desk  writing  letters  or  dream 
ing,  so  that  he  did  not  always  discover  when  the  Senate 
was  going  into  a  division.  Some  one  of  his  party  had  not 
seldom  to  jog  his  elbow,  and  tell  him  that  his  vote  was 
wanted." 

The  most  complete  edition  of  Mr.  Webster's  writings 
which  has  yet  appeared  was  published  in  the  spring  of 
this  year  (1852),  by  Little  &  Brown,  Boston.  It  was 
edited  by  the  Hon.  Edward  Everett,  and  made  six  large 
handsome  volumes.  To  each  of  these  is  prefixed  a  Dedi 
cation  by  Mr.  Webster,  and  their  exceeding  beauty  is  the 
writer's  apology  for  reprinting  them  in  this  place.  They 
also  show  that  he  was  warm-hearted. 


DANIEL     WEBSTER. 


FIRST     VOLUME 


161 


To  my  Nieces, 
MRS.  ALICE    BRIDGE   WHIFFLE, 

and 
MRS.  MARY   ANN    SANBORN, 

"Many  of  the  speeches  contained  in  this  volume  were 
delivered  and  printed  in  the  lifetime  of  your  father,  whose 
fraternal  affection  led  him  to  speak  of  them  with  appro 
bation. 

"  His  death,  which  happened  when  he  had  only  just 
passed  the  middle  period  of  life,  left  you  without  a  father, 
and  me  without  a  brother. 

"  I  dedicate  this  volume  to  you,  not  only  for  the  love  I 
have  for  yourselves,  but  also  as  a  tribute  of  affection  to  his 
memory,  and  from  a  desire  that  the  name  of  my  brother, 

"EZEKIEL   WEBSTER, 

may  be  associated  with  mine,  so  long  as  any  thing  written 
or  spoken  by  me  shall  be  regarded  or  read. 

"  DANL.  WEBSTER." 


SECOND    VOLUME. 


To 
ISAAC    P.   DAVIS,   ESQ. 

"My  DEAR  SIR, 

"A  warm  private  friendship  has  subsisted  between  us 
for  half  our  lives,  interrupted  by  no  untoward  occurrence, 
and  never  for  a  moment  cooling  into  indifference.  Of  this 
friendship,  the  source  of  so  much  happiness  to  me,  I  wish 


162  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

to  leave,  if  not  an  enduring  memorial,  at  least  an  affec 
tionate  and  grateful  acknowledgment. 

"  I  subscribe  this  volume  of  my  speeches  to  you. 

"  DANL.  WEBSTER." 

THIRD   VOLUME. 

To 

CAROLINE   LE   ROY   WEBSTER. 
u  MY   DEARLY  BELOVED  WlFE, 

"  I  can  not  allow  these  volumes  to  go  to  the  press  with 
out  containing  a  tribute  of  my  affection,  and  some  ac 
knowledgment  of  the  deep  interest  that  you  have  felt  in 
the  productions  which  they  contain.  You  have  witnessed 
the  origin  of  most  of  them,  not  with  less  concern,  certainly, 
than  has  been  felt  by  their  author  ;  and  the  degree  of  fa 
vor  with  which  they  are  received  by  the  public  will  be  as 
earnestly  regarded,  I  am  sure,  by  you  as  by  myself. 

"  The  opportunity  seems,  also,  a  fit  one  for  expressing 
the  high  and  warm  regard  which  I  ever  entertained  for 
your  honored  father,  now  deceased,  and  the  respect  and 
esteem  which  I  cherish  toward  the  members  of  that  ami 
able  and  excellent  family  to  which  you  belong. 

.  WEBSTER." 


FOURTH    VOLUME. 

To 
FLETCHER  WEBSTER,  ESQ. 

"  MY  DEAR  SON, 
"  I  dedicate  one  volume  of  these  speeches  to  the  mem- 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  163 

ory  of  your  deceased  brother  and  sister,  and  I  am  devout 
ly  thankful  that  I  am  able  to  inscribe  another  to  you,  my 
only  surviving  child,  and  the  object  of  my  affections  and 
hopes.  You  have  been  of  an  age,  at  the  appearance  of 
most  of  these  speeches  and  writings,  at  which  you  were 
able  to  read  and  understand  them  ;  and  in  the  preparation 
of  some  of  them  you  have  taken  no  unimportant  part. 
Among  the  diplomatic  papers  there  are  several  written  by 
yourself,  wholly  or  mainly,  at  the  time  when  official  and 
confidential  connections  subsisted  between  us  in  the  De 
partment  of  State. 

"  The  principles  and  opinions  expressed  in  these  produc 
tions  are  such  as  I  believe  to  be  essential  to  the  preserva 
tion  of  the  Union,  the  maintenance  of  the  Constitution, 
and  the  advancement  of  the  country  to  still  higher  stages 
of  prosperity  and  renown.  These  objects  have  constituted 
my  pole-star  during  the  whole  of  my  political  life,  which 
has  now  extended  through  more  than  half  the  period  of 
the  existence  of  the  government.  And  I  know,  my  dear 
son,  that  neither  parental  authority  nor  parental  example 
is  necessary  to  induce  you,  in  whatever  capacity,  public 
or  private,  you  may  be  called  to  act,  to  devote  yourself  to 
the  accomplishment  of  the  same  ends. 
"  Your  affectionate  father, 

WEBSTER." 


164  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR, 

"  The  friendship  which  has  subsisted  so  long  between 
us  spring's  not  more  from  our  close  family  connection  than 
from  similarity  of  opinions  and  sentiments. 

"  I  count  it  among  the  advantages  and  pleasures  of  my 
life  ;  and  I  pray  you  to  allow  me,  as  a  slight  but  grateful 
token  of  my  estimate  of  it,  to  dedicate  to  you  this  volume 
of  my  speeches.  DANL.  WEBSTER." 


SIXTH    VOLUME. 


"With  the  warmest  paternal  affection,  mingled  with 
deeply  afflicted  feelings,  I  dedicate  this,  the  last  volume 
of  my  works,  to  the  memory  of  my  deceased  children 

"JULIA  WEBSTER   APPLETON, 

beloved  in  all  the  relations  of  daughter,  wife,  mother,  sis 
ter,  and  friend  ;  and 

"MAJOR   EDWARD   WEBSTER, 

who  died  in  Mexico,  in  the  military  service  of  the  United 
States,  with  unblemished  honor  and  reputation,  and  who 
entered  that  service  solely  from  a  desire  to  be  useful  to 
his  country  and  do  honor  to  the  state  in  which  he  was 
born. 

"  '  Go,  gentle  spirits,  to  your  destined  rest  : 
While  I,  reversed  our  nature's  kindlier  doom, 
Pour  forth  a  father's  sorrow  on  your  tomb.' 

.  WEBSTER." 


As  the  devoted  affection  which  existed  between  Daniel 
Webster  and  his  brother  Ezekiel  was  one  of  the  peculiar- 


DANIEL    WEBSTER.  165 

ities  of  their  lives,  and  as  they  also  resembled  each  other 
in  many  particulars,  both  physical  and  intellectual,  it  can 
not  hut  he  proper  to  insert  in  this  place  a  brief  sketch  of 
the  latter  gentleman,  from  the  pen  of  the  late  Samuel  L. 
Knapp. 

"  Ezekiel  Webster  was  two  or  three  years  older  than 
his  brother  Daniel,  but  did  not  graduate  until  three  years 
after  him,  in  1804.  In  college  he  was  the  first  in  his 
class  ;  his  intellect  was  of  a  very  high  order  ;  its  capacity 
was  general,  for  he  was  able  to  comprehend  the  abstruse 
and  difficult,  and  at  the  same  time  to  enjoy  the  tasteful 
and  the  elegant.  He  was  distinguished  for  classical  l:f- 
erature  ;  his  knowledge  of  Greek,  particularly,  was  beyoriu 
that  of  his  contemporaries  in  college  ;  his  knowledge  of 
English  literature  was  deep  and  extensive,  for  he  had  not 
skimmed  over  books  as  a  matter  of  amusement,  but  he 
looked  into  them  as  a  man  of  mind,  who  intends  to  draw 
lessons  from  all  he  reads.  Few  men  among  our  scholars 
knew  so  much  of  the  English  poets  as  he  did ;  and  he 
valued  them  as  he  should  have  done,  as  philosophers  and 
painters  of  human  nature,  from  whom  much  knowledge 
may  be  obtained  to  illustrate  and  adorn  what  duller  minds 
have  put  into  maxims  and  rules. 

"  He  made  himself  master  of  the  law  as  a  science,  and 
became  well  acquainted  with  its  practice  in  his  native 
state.  He  went  up  to  first  principles  with  the  ease  and 
directness  of  a  great  mind,  and  separated  at  once  that 
which  was  casual  and  local  from  that  which  is  permanent, 
and  founded  on  the  basis  of  moral  justice  and  the  nature 
of  man.  There  seemed  no  effort  in  any  thing  he  did ; 


166 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 


all  was  natural  and  easy,  as  if  intuitive.  There  was 
nothing  about  him  of  that  little  bustling  smartness  so  oft 
en  seen  in  ordinary  persons  striving  to  perform  something 
to  attract  the  attention  of  the  little  world  around  them. 

"  His  general  information  was  not  only  extensive,  but 
laid  up  in  excellent  order,  ready  for  use.  He  was  stead 
ily  engaged  in  the  duties  of  his  profession,  but  never 
seemed  hurried  or  confused  in  his  business ;  he  took  all 
calmly  and  quietly  ;  he  did  nothing  for  parade  or  show, 
or  mere  effect,  nor  did  he  speak  to  the  audience  while  ad 
dressing  the  court  and  jury.  His  life  was  passed  in  hab 
its  of  industry  and  perseverance,  and  his  accumulations 
of  wealth  and  knowledge  were  regular  and  rapid.  From 
the  commencement  of  his  life,  as  a  reasonable  being  re 
sponsible  for  his  own  actions,  to  the  close  of  it,  he  pre 
served  the  most  perfect  consistency  of  character  ;  no  par 
oxysms  of  passion,  no  eccentricities  of  genius,  were  ever 
found  in  him.  His  equanimity  was  only  equaled  by  his 
firmness  of  purpose.  In  this  he  was  most  conspicuous  ; 
he  thought  leisurely  and  cautiously,  and  having  made  up 
his  mind,  he  was  steadfast  and  immovable.  Having  no 
hasty  or  premature  thoughts,  he  seldom  had  occasion  to 
change  his  opinions,  and  was  therefore  free  from  those 
mortifying  repentances  so  common  to  superior  minds  of 
warmer  temperament.  By  honesty  of  purpose  and  sound 
ness  of  judgment  he  kept  a  just  balance  in  weighing  all 
matters  before  him.  All  his  firmness  and  equanimity, 
and  other  virtues,  seemed  constitutional,  and  not  made 
up  by  those  exertions  so  necessary  to  most  frail  beings 
who  intend  to  support  a  character  for  steady  habits.  He 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  167 

was  blessed  with  a  frame  that  felt  few  or  no  infirmities. 
He  suffered  no  moral  or  mental  weakness  in  his  whole 
path  of  duty,  for  his  constitution,  until  within  a  short  time 
of  his  death,  exhibited  a  sound  mind  in  a  sound  body,  and 
neither  appeared  essentially  injured  or  decayed  to  the  hour 
of  his  exit  from  the  world. 

"  He  never  sought  public  honors,  nor  literary  or  polit 
ical  distinctions,  and  therefore  had  none  of  those  throes 
and  agonies  so  common  to  vaulting  ambition  ;  not  that 
he  declined  all  public  trusts,  when  he  was  conscious  that 
he  could  do  any  good  to  his  fellow-men.  He  was  several 
years  a  member  of  one  or  other  branch  of  the  Legislature 
of  New  Hampshire,  and  served  as  a  trustee  of  Dartmouth 
College.  He  was  at  different  times  put  up  for  a  member 
of  Congress ;  but  it  was  at  periods  when  his  friends  thought 
that  his  name  would  do  some  good  to  his  political  party, 
as  the  members  of  Congress  in  New  Hampshire  are  cho 
sen  by  a  general  ticket ;  but  when  they  were  decidedly 
in  power,  he  would  seldom  or  never  consent  to  be  a  can 
didate.  This  was  much  to  be  regretted,  for  he  was  ad 
mirably  calculated  for  public  life  by  his  extensive  knowl 
edge  and  incorruptible  integrity.  He  would  have  been  a 
first-rate  speaker  on  the  floor  of  Congress.  His  eloquence 
was  impressive  and  commanding.  There  was  in  his  de 
livery  a  slight  defect  in  the  labial  sounds,  in  the  familiar 
use  of  his  voice,  which  was  rather  pleasant  to  the  listener 
than  otherwise,  for  it  was  a  proof  of  a  natural  manner ; 
but,  warmed  by  his  subject,  a  more  rich,  full,  and  sono 
rous  voice  was  seldom  heard  in  any  public  body  ;  not  that 
his  tones  were  delicate  or  mellifluous,  but  full  of  majesty 


168  PRIVATE     LIFE      OP 

and  command ;  free  from  arrogance,  timidity,  or  hesita 
tion.  His  gestures  were  graceful,  but  not  in  the  slightest 
degree  studied ;  his  language  was  rich,  gentlemanly,  se 
lect,  but  not  painfully  chosen  ;  he  not  only  had  words  for 
all  occasions,  but  the  very  words  he  should  have  used. 

"  As  a  writer,  he  excelled  in  judgment  and  taste  ;  there 
was  a  classical  elegance  in  his  familiar  writings ;  and  his 
higher  compositions  were  marked  with  that  lucid  order, 
and  clearness  of  thought,  and  purity  of  expression,  which 
distinguished  the  Augustan  Age.  His  sentences  were  not 
grappled  together  by  hooks  of  steel,  but  connected  by  gold 
en  hinges  that  made  a  harmonious  whole.  His  library 
was  rich  in  works  of  merit,  ancient  and  modern.  The 
history  of  literature  and  science  was  as  familiar  to  him  as 
that  of  his  native  state,  and  he  had  the  means  of  turning 
to  it  with  much  greater  facility.  He  was  an  instance  in 
point  that  a  man  may  be  a  good  lawyer,  and  yet  devote 
some  of  his  time  to  classical  pursuits. 

"  Ezekiel  "Webster  was  one  of  those  great  men,  rare  in 
stances  in  the  world,  who  had  thrown  away  ambition,  and 
who  professed  to  be  learned  and  happy  in  his  course  of 
life,  rather  than  to  court  the  gale  and  spread  his  sails  to 
be  wafted  along  on  popular  opinion.  He  sought  not  pop 
ularity,  but  he  had  it ;  that  popularity  which  follows,  not 
that  which  is  run  after.  He  watched  the  signs  of  the 
times,  and  was  as  good  a  diviner  in  politics  as  any  one  ; 
but,  whatever  the  presages  were,  he  looked  at  coming 
events  unmoved,  leaving  their  results  to  Heaven. 

"  For  several  of  the  last  years  of  his  life,  he  was  curtail 
ing  his  business  in  order  to  devote  some  portion  of  the 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  169 

prime  of  his  manhood  to  literary  and  scientific  pursuits, 
so  congenial  to  his  heart ;  but  in  this  he  was  disappoint 
ed,  for,  while  yet  in  the  fullness  of  his  strength,  he  was 
called  to  leave  the  world,  for  whose  benefit  he  was  formed. 
His  death  was  sudden  and  remarkable  ;  he  fell  and  ex 
pired  while  in  the  midst  of  an  argument  at  the  bar,  with 
out  a  sigh  or  a  struggle.  No  event  could  have  been  more 
unexpected  by  the  public,  for  he  was  one  of  those  models 
for  a  picture  of  health  and  strength  that  Salvator  Rosa 
would  have  drawn  in  his  mountain  scenery,  if  he  had 
wished  to  exhibit  a  commander  able  to  bear  the  fatigues 
and  duties  of  council  and  of  war.  He  was  lamented  by 
his  professional  brethren,  and  sincerely  mourned  by  the 
community  at  large." 

H 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF     DANIEL     WEBSTER.  171 


ILLNESS  AND  DEATH. 

WEEP  not,  weep  not  for  the  mighty  dead !  In  the  sun 
set  of  his  days,  and  the  plenitude  of  his  fame,  Daniel  Web 
ster  has  passed  from  among  the  living.  His  great  spirit 
ascended  to  the  skies  through  the  peaceful  atmosphere  of 
a  Sabbath  morning,  and  while  the  glory  of  Autumn  was 
upon  the  land.  And  this  was  well ;  for,  through  life,  he 
habitually  hallowed  the  Sabbath,  and  loved,  above  all  oth 
ers,  the  closing  season  of  the  year.  But  what  is  more,  he 
died  a  Christian.  With  all  his  intellect,  when  he  came  to 
resign  his  soul  into  the  keeping  of  his  Creator,  he  did  it 
with  a  prayer  for  mercy,  and  with  the  meekness  and  con 
fidence  of  a  little  child.  Who,  then,  can  for  an  instant 
doubt  that  he  is  now  in  heaven  ?  As  surely  as  there  is  an 
All-merciful  Savior,  he  must  be  among  the  redeemed.  He 
lived  as  this  nation  would  have  its  subjects  live,  and  died 
the  pride  of  nature,  and,  beyond  all  question,  the  well-be 
loved  child  of  (rod. 

He  occupied,  more  completely  than  any  other  man  of 
his  age,  the  "vantage-ground"  to  do  his  country  good, 
and  therefore  he  deserves  the  fame  of  having  been  an 
"  honest  man"  If  honest,  he  was  true  ;  and  if  true,  he 
was  true  to  his  Grod,  to  his  country,  to  his  fellow-men,  to 
his  family,  and  true  to  himself.  And  thus  he  died,  one 
of  the  best  of  men,  and  the  foremost  intellect  of  his  time. 


172  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

But,  alas !  it  is  also  true,  to  use  the  eloquent  figure  of 
a  chief  mourner,  the  "heart  of  the  nation  throbs  heavily 
at  the  portal  of  Webster's  tomb."  There  are  private  griefs, 
however,  wholly  to  the  world  unknown.  Among  those 
who  knew  him  well  and  sincerely  loved  him,  I  claim  the 
right  and  the  privilege  to  be  numbered.  On  the  lonely 
sea,  whose  ground-swell  was  an  emblem  of  his  beating 
heart — among  his  native  mountains,  and  in  the  sanctuary 
of  his  sick-chamber,  have  I*  been  his  sole  companion.  He 
was  to  me  like  a  father,  and  he  uttered  words  to  me  which 
I  hold  sacred  as  my  life.  My  own  feelings  toward  him 
were  those  of  unbounded  admiration ;  and  yet,  when  en 
joying  his  companionship  alone,  our  relative  positions 
seemed  mutually  to  be  forgotten ;  he  descended  to  my 
level,  and  I  only  thought  of  loving  him,  and  doing  my  all 
to  make  him  happy.  And  now,  as  I  think  upon  his  pleas 
ant  ways,  his  kindly  smiles  and  words,  and  his  noble  deeds. 
I  feel  as  if  my  pen,  from  very  weakness,  should  abandon 
its  present  task.  Let,  then,  the  voice  of  eulogy  be  uttered 
every  where  by  the  gifted  and  the  good  who  have  studied 
his  intellectual  character,  while  I  content  myself  by  re 
cording  some  of  the  more  interesting  facts  attending  his 
decline  and  death. 

I  date  his  more  rapid  decline  from  the  autumn  of  last 
year,  at  which  time  he  was  afflicted  with  one  of  the  se 
verest  attacks  of  his  annual  catarrh.  I  was  with  him  dur 
ing  its  entire  continuance,  and  I  remember  well  that  I 
wondered  how  any  man  could  endure  so  much  bodily  suf 
fering  without  a  murmur.  This  singular  cold  or  disease 
was  one  which  had  come  upon  him  at  a  particular  period 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  173 

of  the  year — late  in  August — for  upward  of  twenty  years, 
with  the  single  exception  of  the  summer  that  he  visited 
England.  From  the  autumn  of  1851  until  the  hour  of 
his  death,  he  was,  to  my  mind,  upon  the  inclined  plane  of 
death.  I  believed  this  from  what  I  saw,  and  the  belief 
was  confirmed  by  what  he  sometimes  uttered.  He  often 
alluded  to  himself  as  an  old  man,  and,  when  in  certain 
moods,  loved  to  talk  about  the  quiet  home  appointed  for 
all  living.  I  most  firmly  believe  what  I  now  utter,  and  I 
utter  the  opinion  out  of  justice  to  the  dead  and  charity  for 
the  living.  He  had  too  powerful  a  mind  to  be  killed  by 
disappointment,  and  though  it  may  be  well  to  let  the  motto 
pass  as  a  poetic  and  just  punishment,  it  is  not  true  that, 
as  a  cause  and  a  consequence,  he  was  "rejected  and  lost" 
The  word  President  would  only  have  dimmed  the  lustre 
of  the  name  of  Daniel  Webster ;  and  if  we  must  sorrow 
that  what  men  expected  can  never  come  to  pass,  let  us  not 
weep  for  him,  but  for  his  country. 

And  his  physicians  tell  us  that  his  decline  was  hasten 
ed  by  the  accident  which  befell  him  in  the  spring  of  the 
present  year.  Surely  I  have  cause  to  feel  a  terrible  inter 
est  in  this  conclusion.  I  was  with  him  at  the  time,  seat 
ed  by  his  side  in  his  own  carriage,  and  I  held  the  reins. 
It  was  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  we  were  on 
our  way  to  Plymouth  on  a  pleasure  excursion.  It  was 
while  he  was  talking  about  the  hardships  endured  by  the 
Pilgrim  fathers,  and  while  our  eyes  rested  upon  the  mem 
orable  bay,  that,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  we  were  both 
thrown  from  the  carriage  on  account  of  the  breaking  of 
the  transom  bolt.  Not  a  bit  of  harm  was  done  to  my  own 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

worthless  body,  and,  on  recovering  from  the  shock,  I  hast 
ened  to  his  rescue.  When  I  lifted  him  up,  and  saw  blood 
clotted  with  dust  streaming  down  his  dome-like  forehead, 
I  felt  as  if  the  very  sky  would  fall  and  crush  me  to  the 
earth.  I  helped  him,  however,  into  a  neighboring  house, 
kind  friends  placed  him  in  a  bed,  and  a  physician  was 
soon  in  attendance.  He  was  quite  faint  for  a  time,  and 
as  he  lay  in  this  state,  the  interest  manifested  by  those 
who  had  come  in  to  see  him  was  intense.  Among  those 
who  stood  by  was  a  gentleman,  over  eighty  years  of  age, 
who  had  long  been  a  personal  friend  of  his.  This  person 
was  watching  the  wounded  man  with  most  painful  anx 
iety  ;  but  when  Mr.  "Webster,  in  answer  to  some  question 
put  to  him  by  the  doctor,  replied  with  promptness,  the  old 
man  suddenly  exclaimed,  "  Thank  God,  he  has  his  rea 
son  /"  and,  bursting  into  tears,  wept  like  a  child.  I  subse 
quently  mentioned  this  fact  to  Mr.  Webster,  and  he  said 
that  he  had  noticed  the  whole  of  it  himself,  and  was  af 
fected  by  the  recollection.  After  remaining  near  the  scene 
of  the  accident  (which  was  twelve  miles  from  home,  and 
only  one  from  Plymouth)  about  four  hours,  he  was  con 
veyed  to  Marshfield,  and  there  remained  confined  to  his  bed 
and  room  for  about  ten  days.  At  that  time  he  was  not 
known  to  have  been  injured  internally,  but  both  his  arms 
were  very  severely  bruised  and  sprained,  so  that  he  could 
not  write  his  name  for  many  weeks.  During  the  few  days 
immediately  succeeding  the  accident,  he  was  perfectly 
helpless,  and  suffered  very  great  pain,  and  yet  he  was 
cheerful,  and  told  an  unusual  number  of  anecdotes.  Dur 
ing  this  period  it  was  that  he  sent  me  to  the  library  for  a 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  175 

copy  of  Milton,  and  bade  me  read  the  first  canto  aloud 
"  slowly  and  distinctly."  As  I  did  so,  he  would  occasion 
ally  interrupt  me  for  the  purpose  of  descanting  upon  cer 
tain  ideas  that  he  thought  "  wonderfully  grand  and  beau 
tiful"  While  yet  his  arms  were  confined  in  a  sling, 
though  in  other  respects  quite  well,  he  amused  himself  by 
walking  about  the  mansion — now  peering  into  a  closet  or 
trunk  filled  with  musty  papers,  which  had  been  hidden 
from  his  sight  for  many  years,  and  now  suggesting  all 
sorts  of  little  improvements  for  the  comfort  and  conven 
ience  of  the  household.  And  twenty  times  in  the  day, 
when  the  mood  was  upon  him,  would  he  visit  the  extens 
ive  apartments  where  were  congregated  his  overseer,  the 
various  assistants,  and  his  servants,  and  for  every  one  he 
had  a  playful  compliment  and  the  kindest  words.  He  had 
a  fashion  of  designating  me  as  the  "  colonel"  and  on  one 
occasion  during  this  period,  he  said  that  he  intended  to 
make  a  "  general"  of  me,  if  I  would  only  continue,  until 
he  was  well  again,  to  open  the  doors,  or  force  a  way  at 
his  command.  In  themselves,  these  little  incidents  are 
mere  trifles,  but  their  association  with  the  greatest  mind 
of  this  country  renders  them  interesting,  and  I  trust  the 
reader  will  forgive  my  egotism. 

It  is  somewhat  singular  that  Mr.  "Webster's  two  last 
speeches  were  delivered  while  upon  a  kind  of  triumphal 
march — one  of  them  in  Boston,  and  the  other  at  Marsh- 
field  ;  and  it  is  also  strange  but  providential,  that  he  should 
finally  have  been  permitted  to  die  at  home  and  surround 
ed  with  his  kindred.  The  reception  which  he  met  with 
in  the  former  place  was  the  most  splendid  demonstration 


176  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

of  the  kind  ever  witnessed  in  the  country.  I  never  saw  a 
more  interesting  spectacle  than  was  presented  in  front  of 
the  Revere  House,  when  he  returned  to  his  lodgings  at  the 
twilight  hour  in  a  carriage  completely  filled  with  flowers, 
drawn  by  six  white  horses,  and  escorted  by  a  cavalcade 
of  nearly  one  thousand  horsemen  in  military  array.  The 
speech  which  he  delivered  to  an  immense  multitude  on 
that  occasion  was  worthy  of  his  fame,  and  yet,  in  his  own 
opinion  and  in  the  opinion  of  his  friends,  he  was  at  that 
time  a  sick  man. 

But  the  moral  grandeur  of  his  reception  at  Marshfield, 
now  that  his  body  is  in  the  tomb,  positively  seems  almost 
sublime.  He  came,  as  it  were,  from  a  field  of  intellectual 
conquest,  where  he  had  battled  forty  years  for  his  coun 
try — a  conquest  such  as  the  world  had  seldom  or  perhaps 
never  before  witnessed.  A  procession,  consisting  of  thou 
sands  of  his  neighbors,  without  respect  to  party,  met  him 
at  a  point  eight  miles  distant  from  his  residence,  and  es 
corted  him  home,  while  the  road  was  literally  lined  with 
women  and  children  to  welcome  him,  and  garlands  with 
out  number  were  strewn  along  his  pathway.  Upon  a  hill, 
in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  his  mansion,  the  great  con 
course  came  to  a  halt;  they  delegated  an  orator  to  wel 
come  him  with  a  speech,  and  his  reply  was  beautiful  and 
appropriate  to  the  many,  but  to  the  few  who  lived  in  his 
shadow  there  was  a  tone  of  sadness  in  all  he  uttered.  He 
finished  his  address  just  as  the  sun  was  setting,  and  I  can 
not  but  think  of  it  as  one  of  the  golden  clouds  which  will 
be  remembered  with  the  glory  of  his  own  departure  into 
the  night  of  death.  It  was  the  last  he  ever  uttered  to  a 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  177 

public  assembly.  And  now  I  remember  how,  after  the 
crowd  had  disappeared,  he  entered  his  mansion  fatigued 
beyoncl  all  measure  and  covered  with  dust,  and  threw  him 
self  into  a  chair.  For  a  moment  his  head  fell  upon  hi.s 
breast,  as  if  completely  overcome,  and  he  then  looked  up 
like  one  seeking  something  which  he  could  not  find.  It 
was  the  portrait  of  his  darling  but  departed  daughter  Ju 
lia,  and  it  happened  to  be  in  full  view.  He  gazed  upon  it 
for  some  time  in  a  kind  of  trance,  and  then  wept  like  one 
whose  heart  was  broken,  and  these  words  escaped  his  lips : 
"  Oh,  I  am  so  thankful  to  be  here  !  If  I  could  only  have 
my  will,  never,  never  would  I  again  leave  this  home  /" 
And  then  he  sought  and  obtained  a  night  of  repose.  He 
made  one  more  visit  to  the  seat  of  government,  wound  up 
to  all  intents  and  purposes  his  affairs,  and  now  his  manly 
form  is  in  that  sleep  which  knows  no  waking. 

The  last  time  that  he  ever  attended  church,  it  was  my 
rare  fortune  to  be  his  companion.  He  had  been  inform 
ed  that  the  Rev.  E.  N.  Kirk,  of  Boston,  was  expected  to 
preach  in  Duxbury,  some  three  miles  from  Marshfield,  and 
packing  off  his  guests  and  a  part  of  his  household  in  a 
couple  of  carriages,  he  reserved  a  gig  for  himself,  and  in 
this  did  we  attend.  The  sermon  was  on  the  efficacy  of 
prayer,  and  was  distinguished  not  only  for  its  eloquence, 
but  for  its  powerful  arguments.  It  dealt  in  nothing  but 
pure  Bible  doctrines  as  understood  by  the  orthodox  Church. 
Mr.  Webster  listened  with  marked  attention  to  the  whole 
discourse,  and,  after  the  services  were  closed,  went  up  and 
congratulated  the  preacher.  On  our  return  home,  his  con 
versation  turned  upon  the  sermon,  and  he  said  it  was  a  re- 

H2 


178 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 


markable,  a  great  effort.  He  said  the  arguments  adduced 
were  unanswerable,  and  that  if  a  man  would  only  live  ac 
cording  to  the  lessons  of  such  preaching,  he  would  be  a 
happy  man  both  in  this  world  and  the  world  to  come.  He 
said,  moreover,  "  There  is  not  a  single  sentiment  in  that 
discourse  with  which  I  do  not  fully  concur."  And  this  re 
mark,  when  appended,  as  it  ought  to  be,  to  the  sermon 
when  hereafter  published,  will  serve  to  convince  the  world 
that  his  views  of  religion  were  most  substantial  and  satis 
factory.  During  the  whole  of  our  ride  home,  he  conversed 
upon  matters  contained  in,  or  suggested  by  the  discourse, 
and  I  deeply  regret  that  I  did  not  take  more  ample  notes 
of  what  he  said  on  the  occasion.  The  distinct  impression 
left  upon  my  mind,  however,  was  that  if  he  were  not  a 
genuine  Christian,  the  promises  of  the  Bible  were  all  a 
fable ;  and  Grod  knows  that  I  would  rather  die  than,  for  a 
moment,  even  imagine  such  a  state  of  things. 

He  was  a  believer  in  the  Great  Atonement ;  and  though, 
living  as  he  did  in  a  sphere  of  peculiar  temptations,  he  may 
have  committed  errors,  he  needed  no  promptings  to  lead 
him  to  a  speedy  repentance.  He  was  actuated  by  a  spir 
it  of  charity  which  knew  no  bounds.  ~He  treasured  no  an 
imosities  to  his  fellow-men,  and  when  once  wronged  by 
those  in  whom  he  had  confided  with  all  the  guilelessness 
of  a  child,  he  did  not  retaliate,  but  simply  moved  in  anoth 
er  sphere  beyond  their  ,jeach?  He  was  a  student  of  the 
Bible,  and  read  it  habitually  in  his  family  whenever  the 
annoyances  of  his  official  position  did  not  prevent ;  and 
never  sat  down,  when  with  his  family  alone,  to  enjoy  the 
bounties  of  his  table,  without  first  imploring  a  blessing. 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  179 

No  man  ever  thought  or  talked  with  more  reverence  of  the 
power  and  holiness  of  (rod.  He  came  of  a  race  of  good 
men ;  was  baptized  into,  and  became  a  member,  in  his  col 
lege  days,  of  the  Congregational  Church,  but  died  in  the 
communion  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church,  of  which 
he  was  a  devout  member  ;  and  one  of  the  most  impressive 
scenes  that  I  ever  witnessed,  going  to  prove  the  matchless 
beauty  of  our  religion,  was  to  see  him,  in  full  view  of  the 
Capitol,  the  principal  theatre  of  his  exploits,  upon  his  knees 
before  the  altar  partaking  of  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's 
Supper.  That  spectacle,  and  the  grandeur  of  his  death, 
are  to  me  more  eloquent  than  a  thousand  sermons  from 
human  lips. 

In  his  personal  appearance  Mr.  Webster  was  an  extra- 
ordinary  man,  and  at  the  age  of  forty  was  considered  the 
handsomest  man  in  Congress.     He  was  above  the  ordinary; , 
size,  and  stoutly  formed,  but  with  small  hands  and  feet,;! 
had  a  large  head,  very  high  forehead,  a  dark  complexion, 
large  black,  deeply-sunken,  and  solemn-looking  eyes,  black  \ 
hair  (originally),  very  heavy  eyebrows,  and  fine  teeth.     To 
strangers  his  countenance  appeared  stern,  but  when  light 
ed  up  by  conversation,  it  was  bland  and  agreeable.     H 
was  slow  and  stately  in  his  movements,  and  his  dress  was 
invariably  neat  and  elegant;  his  favorite  suit  for  many 
years  having  been  a  blue  or  brown  coat,  a  buff  vest,  anc 
black  pantaloons.     His  manner  of  speaking,  both  in  con 
versation  and  debate,  was  slow  and  methodical,  and  his 
voice  generally  low  and  musical,  but  when  excited,  it  rang 
like  a  clarion. 

The  more  rapid  decline  of  Mr. "Webster  commenced  while 


180  PRIVATE     LIFEVOF 

at  Marshfield,  about  one  week  "before  his  death,  which  oc 
curred  just  before  three  o'clock  on  Sunday  morning,  the 
twenty-fourth  of  October.  He  was  in  the  seventy-first 
year  of  his  age,  and  had,  therefore,  just  passed  the  allotted 
period  of  human  life.  He  looked  upon  his  coming  fate 
with  composure  and  entire  resignation.  On  the  afternoon 
of  the  twenty-third,  he  conversed  freely,  and  with  great 
clearness  and  detail,  in  relation  to  the  disposal  of  his  af 
fairs.  His  last  autograph  letter  was  addressed  to  the  Pres 
ident  ;  and  among  the  directions  that  he  gave  respecting 
his  monument  was,  that  it  should  be  no  larger  than  those 
erected  to  the  mother  of  his  children,  and  to  Julia  and 
Edward.  He  dictated  an  epitaph,  which  will  in  due  time 
be  published. 

At  five  o'clock  he  was  seized  with  a  violent  nausea,  and 
raised  considerable  dark  matter  tinged  with  blood,  which 
left  him  in  a  state  of  great  exhaustion  and  debility.  The 
physician  in  attendance,  Dr.  John  Jeffries,  then  announced 
to  Mrs.  Webster  that  his  last  hour  was  rapidly  approach 
ing.  He  received  the  announcement  calmly,  and  directed 
all  the  females  of  the  family  to  be  called  into  the  room, 
and  addressed  to  each  of  them  individually  a  few  affec 
tionate  parting  words,  and  bade  them  a  final  farewell.  He 
then  took  leave  of  his  male  relatives  and  personal  friends, 
including  his  farmers  and  servants,  addressing  each  indi 
vidually  in  reference  to  their  past  relations,  and  bade  each 
an  affectionate  adieu.  The  last  of  his  family  that  he  part 
ed  with  was  Peter  Harvey  Webster,  a  grandson,  the  child 
of  Fletcher  Webster,  for  whom  he  invoked  the  richest  bless 
ings  of  Heaven.  He  then  said,  as  if  speaking  to  himself. 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  181 

"  On  the  twenty-fourth  of  October  all  that  is  mortal  of 
Daniel  Webster  will  be  no  more."  In  a  full  and  clear 
voice  he  then  prayed  most  fervently,  and  impressively  con 
cluded  as  follows  :  "  Heavenly  Father,  forgive  my  sins,  and 
welcome  me  to  thyself,  through  Christ  Jesus."  Dr.  Jef 
fries  then  conversed  with  him,  and  told  him  that  medical 
skill  could  do  nothing  more,  to  which  he  replied,  "  Then 
I  am  to  be  here  patiently  till  the  end  :  if  it  be  so,  may  it 
come  soon."  His  last  words  were,  "  J  still  live;"  and, 
coming  from  such  lips,  it  seems  to  me  they  can  not  but 
fully  convince  the  most  hardened  skeptic  of  the  immortal 
ity  of  the  soul.  They  seem  to  fall  upon  the  ear  frcazrrbe^ 
yond  the  tomb,  and  to  be  the  language  of  a  disembodied 
spirit  passing  into  paradise.  Durii^Jhis-las&fiour  he  was 
entirely  calm,  and  breathed  his  life  away  so  peacefully 
that  it  was  difficult  to  fix  the  precise  moment  that  he  ex 
pired. 

He  died,  according  to  Dr.  Jeffries,  of  disease  of  the  liver. 
The  immediate  cause  of  his  death  was  hemorrhage  from 
the  stomach  and  bowels,  owing  to  a  morbid  state  of  the 
blood  consequent  upon  the  above  disease.  There  was  also 
dropsy  on  the  abdomen.  On  making  a  post-mortem  ex 
amination,  it  was  found  that  the  cerebral  organs  were  of 
the  very  largest  known  capacity,  exceeding,  by  thirty  per 
centum,  the  average  weight  of  the  human  brain ;  and  with 
only  two  exceptions  (Cuvier  and  Dupuytren),  the  largest 
of  which  there  is  any  record.  It  is  also  worthy  of  remark, 
that  a  well-marked  effusion  upon  the  arachnoid  membrane 
was  discovered,  although  there  were  no  perceptible  evi 
dences  of  any  lesion  during  Mr.  "Webster's  lifetime.  It  is 


182  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

supposed  to  have  been  caused  by  his  severe  fall  from  his 
carriage  in  Kingston  last  spring.  It  is  a  remarkable  phys- 
iological'fact,  that  an  injury  that  would  have  impaired  the 
intellect,  if  not  at  once  caused  death  in  another,  should  in 
this  instance  have  been  attended  with  so  little  external  ev 
idence  of  so  important  an  injury  to  a  vital  organ. 

He  left  a  will,  which  was  dictated  and  signed  on  the 
third  day  preceding  his  death,  the  contents  of  which  I  do 
not  think  it  proper  to  mention  at  this  time.  His  literary 
executors  were  Edward  Everett,  G-eorge  Ticknor,  Greorge 
T.  Curtis,  and  C.  C.  Felton,  who  will  in  due  time  present 
the  country  with  a  rich  store  of  literary  wealth.  He  did 
not  forget  his  friends,  but  left  to  many  of  them  slight  me 
morials  of  his  attachment. 

His  remains  were  embalmed,  and,  instead  of  a  shroud , 
were  arrayed  in  a  suit  like  that  he  was  sometimes  fond  of 
wearing  in  other  days — a  blue  coat  with  gilt  buttons, 
white  cravat,  vest,  pantaloons,  and  gloves,  silken  hose,  and 
shoes  of  patent  leather.  His  coffin,  with  only  his  name 
upon  it,  was  elegant  but  unpretending ;  and  while  it  re 
mained  under  the  roof  of  the  Marshfield  mansion,  stood 
upon  his  own  favorite  writing-table,  in  the  centre  of  the 
library,  the  spot  of  all  others  which  he  loved  for  the  sake 
of  his  darling  child  Julia,  who  had  designed  it  for  him ; 
and  the  spot,  too,  with  which  are  associated  some  of  the 
most  happy,  and  altogether  the  most  salutary  recollections 
of  my  life.  He  was  the  best  friend  I  ever  had,  and  as  he 
taught  me  all  I  know,  Grod  grant  that  I  may  hereafter  em 
ulate  his  manifold  virtues. 

The  day  of  his  funeral,  the  twenty-ninth  of  October,  was 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  183 

sunny  and  cheerful,  and  his  remains  were  escorted  to  the 
tomb  by  some  ten  thousand  friends,  countrymen,  and  lov 
ers,  among  whom  were  many  of  the  most  illustrious  men 
of  the  country.  The  services  were  performed  by  the  Rev. 
Ebenezer  Alden,  the  pastor  of  the  orthodox  Congregation 
al  Church  of  the  town,  and  were  as  simple  and  unpretend 
ing  as  had  been  the  inner  life  of  the  departed.  And  when 
the  pall  of  night  settled  upon  the  earth,  the  long  rank 
grass  upon  the  tomb  of  Daniel  Webster  mingled  its  rus 
tling  with  the  sighing  of  the  breeze,  and  the  low,  mournful 
requiem  of  the  ocean. 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF     DANIEL     WEBSTER.         185 


CONCLUDINO  NOTE. 

WHILE  this  work  was  going  through  the  press,  a  re 
quest  was  made  of  the  author  that  he  should  reserve,  for 
the  more  legitimate  use  of  Mr.  "Webster's  literary  execu 
tors,  a  certain  collection  of  private  letters  which  he  was 
known  to  have  in  his  possession.  The  propriety  of  the 
request  was  so  apparent,  it  was,  of  course,  willingly  com 
plied  with,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  official  presenta 
tion  to  the  public  of  all  Mr.  "Webster's  correspondence  and 
other  literary  remains  will  not  be  long  delayed.  The  let 
ters  herein  published  have  already  appeared  in  the  public 
journals,  and  were,  of  course,  common  property,  and,  as 
such,  were  simply  employed  to  illustrate  the  unvarnished 
records  of  fact  and  affection. 


APPENDIX. 


APPENDIX, 


EULOGY  IN  BOSTON. 

THE  following  masterly  effort  of  requiem-eloquence  was 
delivered  at  a  public  meeting  of  the  citizens  of  Boston,  by 
the  Hon.  Edward  Everett.  This  gentleman  was  a  de 
voted  friend  and  companion  of  the  departed  for  a  much 
longer  period  than  any  other  man  now  living,  and  this  fact 
alone  is  deemed  a  sufficient  apology  for  giving  it  a  place 
in  this  volume,  in  preference  to  the  equally  brilliant  efforts 
of  a  hundred  others,  who  have  given  expression  to  their 
great  admiration  and  their  deep  sorrow.  It  is  copied  from 
the  report  as  published  in  the  newspapers. 

"  MR.  MAYOR  AND  FELLOW-CITIZENS, 
"  I  never  rose  to  address  an  assembly  when  I  was  so 
little  fit,  body  or  mind,  to  perform  the  duty ;  and  I  never 
felt  so  keenly  how  inadequate  are  words  to  express  such 
an  emotion  as  manifestly  pervades  this  meeting  in  common 
with  the  whole  country.  There  is  but  one  voice  that  ever 
fell  upon  my  ear  which  could  do  justice  to  such  an  occa 
sion.  That  voice,  alas !  we  shall  hear  no  more  forever. 
No  more  at  the  bar  will  it  unfold  the  deepest  mysteries 
of  the  law ;  no  more  will  it  speak  conviction  to  admiring 


190 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 


Senates ;  no  more  in  this  hall,  the  chosen  theatre  of  his 
intellectual  dominion,  will  it  lift  the  soul  as  with  the  swell 
of  the  pealing  organ,  or  stir  the  blood  with  the  tones  of  a 
clarion  in  the  inmost  chambers  of  the  heart. 

"  We  are  assembled,  fellow-citizens,  to  pour  out  the  full 
ness  of  our  feelings  ;  not  in  the  vain  attempt  to  do  honor 
to  the  great  man  who  is  taken  from  us ;  most  assuredly, 
not  with  the  presumptuous  hope,  on  my  part,  to  magnify 
his  name  and  his  praise.  They  are  spread  throughout 
the  land.  From  East  to  West,  and  from  North  to  South 
(which  he  knew,  as  he  told  you,  only  that  he  might  em 
brace  them  in  the  arms  of  loving  patriotism),  a  voice  of 
lamentation  has  already  gone  forth,  such  as  has  not  echoed 
through  the  land  since  the  death  of  him  who  was  first  in 
war,  first  in  peace,  and  first  in  the  hearts  of  his  country 
men. 

"  You  have  listened,  fellow-citizens,  to  the  resolutions 
which  have  been  submitted  to  you  by  Colonel  Heard.  I 
thank  him  for  offering  them.  It  does  honor  to  his  heart, 
and  to  those  with  whom  he  acts  in  politics,  and  whom  I 
have  no  doubt  he  well  represents,  that  he  has  stepped  for 
ward  so  liberally  on  this  occasion. ,  The  resolutions  are 
emphatic,  sir,  but  I  feel  that  they  do  not  say  too  much. 
No  one  will  think  that  they  overstate  the  magnitude  of 
our  loss,  who  is  capable  of  appreciating  a  character  like 
that  of  Daniel  Webster's.  Who  of  us,  fellow-citizens,  that 
has  known  him — that  has  witnessed  the  masterly  skill 
with  which  he  would  pour  the  full  effulgence  of  his  mind 
on  some  contested  legal  and  constitutional  principle,  till 
what  seemed  hard  and  obscure  became  as  plain  as  day ; 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  191 

who  that  has  seen  him,  in  all  the  glory  of  intellectual  as 
cendency — 

"  *  Ride  on  the  whirlwind  and  direct  the  storm' 

of  parliamentary  conflict ;  who  that  has  drunk  of  the  pure 
fresh  air  of  wisdom  and  thought  in  the  volumes  of  his 
writings  ;  who,  alas  !  sir,  that  has  seen  him 

" « —  —  in  his  happier  hour 

Of  social  pleasure,  ill  exchanged  for  power,' 

that  has  come  within  the  benignant  fascination  of  his 
smile,  has  felt  the  pressure  of  his  hand,  and  tasted  the 
sweets  of  his  fireside  eloquence,  will  think  that  the  reso 
lutions  say  too  much  ? 

"  No,  fellow-citizens,  we  come  together  not  to  do  honor 
to  him,  but  to  do  justice  to  ourselves.  We  obey  an  im 
pulse  from  within.  Such  a  feeling  can  not  be  pent  up  in 
solitude.  We  must  meet,  neighbor  with  neighbor,  citizen 
with  citizen,  man  with  man,  to  sympathize  with  each 
other.  If  we  did  not,  mute  nature  would  rebuke  us. 
The  granite  hills  of  New  Hampshire,  within  whose  shad 
ow  he  drew  his  first  breath,  would  cry  shame  ;  Plymouth 
Rock,  which  all  but  moved  at  his  approach  ;  the  slumber 
ing  echoes  of  this  hall,  which  rung  so  grandly  with  his 
voice ;  that  '  silent  but  majestic  orator,'  which  rose  in  no 
mean  degree  at  his  command  on  Bunker  Hill — all,  all 
would  cry  out  at  our  degeneracy  and  ingratitude. 

"  Mr.  Chairman,  I  do  not  stand  here  to  pronounce  the 
eulogy  of  Mr.  Webster  ;  it  is  not  necessary.  Eulogy  has 
already  performed  her  first  offices  to  his  memory.  As  the 
mournful  tidings  have  flashed  through  the  country,  the 
highest  offices  of  nation  and  state,  the  most  dignified  of- 


192  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

ficial  bodies,  the  most  prominent  individuals,  without  dis 
tinction  of  party,  the  press  of  the  country,  the  great  voice 
of  the  land,  all  have  spoken,  and  with  one  accord  of  opinion 
and  feeling ;  and  a  unanimity  that  does  honor  at  once  to 
the  object  of  this  touching  attestation,  and  to  those  who 
make  it.  The  record  of  his  life,  from  the  humble  roof 
beneath  which  he  was  born,  with  no  inheritance  but  pov 
erty  and  an  honored  name,  up  through  the  arduous  paths 
of  manhood,  which  he  trod  with  lion  heart  and  giant  step, 
till  they  conducted  him  to  the  helm  of  state — this  stirring 
narrative,  not  unfamiliar  before,  has,  with  melancholy 
promptitude,  within  the  last  three  days,  been  again  sent 
abroad  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land.  It 
has  spread  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Mississippi.  Strug 
gling  poverty  has  been  cheered  afresh ;  honest  ambition 
has  been  kindled ;  patriotic  resolve  has  been  invigorated ; 
while  all  have  mourned. 

"  The  poor  boy  at  the  village  school  has  taken  comfort 
as  he  has  read  that  the  time  was  when  Daniel  Webster, 
whose  father  told  him  that  he  should  go  to  college  if  he 
had  to  sell  every  acre  of  his  farm  to  pay  the  expense,  laid 
his  head  on  the  shoulder  of  that  fond  and  discerning  par 
ent,  and  wept  the  thanks  he  could  not  speak.  The  pale 
student,  who  ekes  out  his  scanty  support  by  extra  toil,  has 
gathered  comfort  when  reminded  that  the  first  jurist, 
statesman,  and  orator  of  the  time  earned  with  his  weary 
fingers,  by  the  midnight  lamp,  the  means  of  securing  the 
same  advantages  of  education  to  a  beloved  brother.  Every 
true-hearted  citizen  throughout  the  Union  has  felt  an  hon 
est  pride,  as  he  reperuses  the  narrative,  in  reflecting  that 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  193 

he  lives  beneath  a  Constitution  and  a  government  under 
which  such  a  man  has  been  formed  and  trained,  and  that 
he  himself  is  compatriot  with  him.  He  does  more,  sir ; 
he  reflects  with  gratitude  that,  in  consequence  of  what  that 
man  has  done,  and  written,  and  said — in  the  result  of  his 
efforts  to  strengthen  the  pillars  of  the  Union — a  safer  in 
heritance  of  civil  liberty,  a  stronger  assurance  that  these 
blessings  will  endure,  will  descend  to  his  children. 

"  I  know,  Mr.  Mayor,  how  presumptuous  it  would  be  to 
dwell  on  any  personal  causes  of  grief,  in  the  presence  of 
this  august  sorrow  which  spreads  its  dark  wings  over  this 
land.  You  will  not,  however,  be  offended  if,  by  way  of 
apology  for  putting  myself  forward  on  this  occasion,  I  say 
that  my  relations  with  Mr.  Webster  run  further  back  than 
those  of  almost  any  one  in  this  community.  They  began 
the  first  year  he  came  to  live  in  Boston.  When  I  was  but 
ten  or  eleven  years  old,  I  attended  a  little  private  school 
in  Short  Street  (as  it  was  then  called  ;  it  is  now  the  con 
tinuation  of  Kingston  Street),  kept  by  the  late  Hon.  Eze- 
kiel  Webster,  the  elder  brother  to  whom  I  have  alluded, 
and  a  brother  worthy  of  his  kindred.  Owing  to  illness, 
or  some  other  cause  of  absence  on  his  part,  the  school  was 
kept  for  a  short  time  by  Daniel  Webster,  then  a  student 
of  law  in  Mr.  Gore's  office  ;  and  on  this  occasion,  forty- 
seven  or  forty-eight  years  ago,  and  I  a  child  often,  our  ac 
quaintance,  since  then  never  interrupted,  began. 

"  When  I  entered  public  life,  it  was  with  his  encourage 
ment.  In  1838,  I  acted,  fellow-citizens,  as  your  organ  in 
the  great  ovation  which  you  gave  him  in  this  hall.  When 
he  came  to  the  Department  of  State  in  1841,  it  was  on  his 

I 


194  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

recommendation  that  I,  living  in  the  utmost  privacy  be 
yond  the  Alps,  was  appointed  to  a  very  high  office  abroad  ; 
and  in  the  course  of  the  last  year,  he  gave  me  the  highest 
proof  of  his  confidence,  in  intrusting  to  me  the  care  of  con 
ducting  his  works  through  the  press.  May  I  venture,  sir, 
to  add,  that  in  the  last  letter  but  one  which  I  had  the  hap 
piness  to  receive  from  him,  alluding,  with  a  kind  of  sad 
presentiment  which  I  could  not  then  fully  appreciate,  but 
which  now  unmans  me,  to  these  kindly  relations  of  half 
a  century,  he  adds,  « We  now  and  then  see,  stretching 
across  the  heavens,  a  clear,  blue,  cerulean  sky,  without 
cloud,  or  mist,  or  haze.  And  such  appears  to  me  our  ac 
quaintance  from  the  time  when  I  heard  you  for  a  week 
recite  your  lessons  in  the  little  school-house  in  Short  Street, 
to  the  date  hereof,'  twenty-first  July,  1852. 

"  Mr.  Chairman,  I  do  not  dwell  upon  the  traits  of  Mr. 
"Webster's  public  character,  however  tempting  the  theme. 
Its  bright  developments  in  a  long  life  of  service  are  be 
fore  the  world ;  they  are  wrought  into  the  annals  of  the 
country.  Whoever  in  after  times  shall  write  the  history 
of  the  United  States  for  the  last  forty  years,  will  write  the 
life  of  Daniel  Webster ;  and  whoever  writes  the  life  of 
Daniel  Webster  as  it  ought  to  be  written,  will  write  the 
history  of  the  Union  from  the  time  he  took  a  leading  part 
in  its  concerns.  I  prefer  to  allude  to  those  private  traits 
which  show  the  MAN,  the  kindness  of  his  heart,  the  gen 
erosity  of  his  spirit,  his  freedom  from  all  the  bitterness  of 
party,  the  unaffected  gentleness  01  his  nature.  In  prepar 
ing  the  new  edition  of  his  works,  he  thought  proper  to 
leave  almost  every  thing  to  my  discretion,  as  far  as  mat- 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  195 

ters  of  taste  are  concerned.  One  thing  only  he  enjoined 
upon  me  with  an  earnestness  approaching  to  a  command. 
'  My  friend,'  said  he,  '  I  wish  to  perpetuate  no  feuds.  I 
have  lived  a  life  of  strenuous  political  warfare.  I  have 
sometimes,  though  rarely,  and  that  in  self-defense,  been 
led  to  speak  of  others  with  severity.  I  beg  you,  where 
you  can  do  it  without  wholly  changing  the  character  of 
the  speech,  and  thus  doing  essential  injustice  to  me,  to  ob 
literate  every  trace  of  personality  of  this  kind.  I  should 
prefer  not  to  leave  a  work  that  would  give  unnecessary 
pain  to  any  honest  man,  however  opposed  to  me.' 

"  But  I  need  not  tell  you,  fellow-citizens,  that  there  is 
no  one  of  our  distinguished  public  men  whose  speeches 
contain  less  occasion  for  such  an  injunction.  Mr.  "Web 
ster  habitually  abstained  from  the  use  of  the  poisoned 
weapons  of  personal  invective  or  party  odium.  No  one 
could  more  studiously  abstain  from  all  attempts  to  make 
a  political  opponent  personally  hateful.  If  the  character 
of  our  congressional  discussions  has  of  late  years  some 
what  declined  in  dignity,  no  portion  of  the  blame  lies  at 
his  door.  With  Mr.  Calhoun,  who  for  a  considerable  por 
tion  of  the  time  was  his  chief  antagonist,  and  with  whom 
he  was  brought  into  most  direct  collision,  he  maintained 
friendly  relations.  He  did  full  justice  to  his  talents  and 
character.  You  remember  the  feelings  with  which  he 
spoke  of  him  at  the  time  of  his  decease.  Mr.  Calhoun,  in 
his  turn,  entertained  a  just  estimate  of  his  great  opponent's 
worth.  He  said  toward  the  close  of  his  life,  that  of  all. 
the  leading  men  of  the  day,  '  there  was  not  one  whose 
political  course  had  been  more  strongly  marked  by  a  strict 
regard  to  truth  and  honor  than  Mr.  Webster's.' 


196  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

"  One  of  the  resolutions  speaks  of  a  permanent  memorial 
to  Mr.  Webster.  I  do  not  know  what  is  contemplated,  but 
I  trust  that  such  a  memorial  there  will  be.  I  trust  that 
marble  and  brass,  in  the  hands  of  the  most  skillful  artists 
our  country  has  produced,  will  be  put  in  requisition  to  re 
produce  to  us — and  nowhere  so  appropriately  as  in  this 
hall — the  lineaments  of  that  noble  form  and  beaming 
countenance  on  which  we  have  so  often  gazed  with  de 
light.  But  after  all,  fellow-citizens,  the  noblest  monument 
must  be  found  in  his  works.  There  he  will  live  and  speak 
to  us  and  our  children  when  brass  and  marble  have  crum 
bled  into  dust.  As  a  repository  of  political  truth  and  prac 
tical  wisdom  applied  to  the  affairs  of  government,  I  know 
not  where  we  shall  find  their  equal.  The  works  of  Burke 
naturally  suggest  themselves  to  the  mind  as  the  only  writ 
ings  in  our  language  that  can  sustain  the  comparison. 
Certainly  no  composition  in  the  English  tongue  can  take 
precedence  of  those  of  Burke  in  depth  of  thought,  reach 
of  forecast,  or  magnificence  of  style.  I  think,  however,  it 
may  be  said,  without  partiality,  either  national  or  personal, 
that  while  the  reader  is  cloyed  at  last  with  the  gorgeous 
finish  of  Burke's  diction,  there  is  a  severe  simplicity  and 
a  significant  plainness  in  Mr.  Webster's  writing  that  never 
tires.  It  is  precisely  this  which  characterizes  the  states 
man  in  distinction  from  the  political  philosopher.  In  po 
litical  disquisition  elaborated  in  the  closet,  the  palm  must, 
perhaps,  be  awarded  to  Burke  over  all  others,  ancient  or 
modern.  But  in  the  actual  conflicts  of  the  Senate,  man 
against  man,  and  opinion  against  opinion  ;  in  the  noble 
war  of  debate,  where  measures  are  to  be  sustained  and 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  197 

opposed,  on  which  the  welfare  of  the  country  and  the  peace 
of  the  world  depend ;  when  often  the  line  of  intellectual 
battle  is  changed  in  a  moment ;  no  time  to  reflect,  no 
leisure  to  cull  words  or  gather  up  illustrations,  but  all  to 
be  decided  by  a  vote,  although  the  reputation  of  a  life  may 
be  at  stake  ;  all  this  is  a  very  different  matter,  and  here 
Mr.  Webster  was  immeasurably  the  superior.  Accordingly, 
we  find,  historically  (incredible  as  it  sounds,  and  what  I 
am  ready  to  say  I  will  not  believe,  though  it  is  unqestion- 
ably  true),  that  these  inimitable  orations  of  Burke,  which 
one  can  not  read  without  a  thrill  of  admiration  to  his  fin 
gers'  ends,  actually  emptied  the  benches  of  Parliament. 
Ah !  gentlemen,  it  was  very  different  with  our  great  par 
liamentary  orator.  He  not  only  chained  to  their  seats 
willing,  or,  if  there  was  such  a  thing,  unwilling  senators, 
but  the  largest  hall  was  too  small  for  his  audience.  On 
the  memorable  7th  of  March,  1850,  when  he  was  expected 
to  speak  upon  the  great  questions  then  pending  before  the 
country,  not  only  was  the  Senate  Chamber  thronged  to  its 
utmost  capacity  at  an  early  hour,  but  all  the  passages  to  it, 
the  rotunda  of  the  Capitol,  and  even  the  avenues  of  the 
city,  were  alive  with  the  crowds  who  were  desirous  of  gain 
ing  admittance.  Another  senator,  not  a  political  friend, 
was  entitled  to  the  floor.  With  equal  good  taste  and  good 
feeling,  he  stated  that  '  he  was  aware  that  the  great  mul 
titude  had  not  come  together  to  hear  him ;  and  he  was 
pleased  to  yield  the  floor  to  the  only  man,  as  he  believed, 
who  could  draw  together  such  an  assembly.'  This  senti 
ment,  the  effusion  of  parliamentary  courtesy,  will,  per 
haps,  be  found  no  inadequate  expression  of  what  will  final 
ly  be  the  judgment  of  posterity 


198  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

"  Among  the  many  memorable  words  which  fell  from 
the  lips  of  our  friend  just  before  they  were  closed  forever, 
the  most  remarkable  are  those  which  my  friend  Hilliard 
has  just  quoted  :  '  I  STILL  LIVE  !'  They  attest  the  serene 
composure  of  his  mind,  the  Christian  heroism  with  which 
he  was  able  to  turn  his  consciousness  in  upon  itself,  and 
explore,  step  by  step,  the  dark  passage  (dark  to  us,  but  to 
him  clearly  lighted  from  above)  which  connects  this  world 
with  the  world  to  come.  But  I  know  not,  Mr.  Chairman, 
what  words  could  have  been  better  chosen  to  express  his 
relation  to  the  world  he  was  leaving  :  '  I  still  live  !  This 
poor  dust  is  just  returning  to  the  dust  from  which  it  was 
taken  ;  but  I  feel  that  I  live  in  the  affections  of  the  people 
to  whose  service  I  have  consecrated  my  days.  I  still  live ! 
The  icy  hand  of  Death  is  already  laid  on  my  heart,  but  I 
still  live  in  those  words  of  counsel  which  I  have  uttered 
to  my  fellow-citizens,  and  which  I  now  leave  them  as  the 
last  bequest  of  a  dying  friend.' 

"  Mr.  Chairman,  in  the  long  and  honored  career  of  our 
lamented  friend,  there  are  efforts  and  triumphs  which  will 
hereafter  fill  one  of  the  brightest  pages  in  our  history. 
But  I  greatly  err  if  the  closing  scene — the  height  of  the 
religious  sublime  —  does  not,  in  the  judgment  of  other 
days,  far  transcend  in  interest  the  brightest  exploits  of 
public  life.  "Within  that  darkened  chamber  at  Marshfield 
was  witnessed  a  scene  of  which  we  shall  not  readily  find 
the  parallel.  The  serenity  with  which  he  stood  in  the 
presence  of  the  King  of  Terrors,  without  trepidation  or 
flutter,  for  hours  and  days  of  expectation ;  the  thought- 
fulness  for  the  public  business,  when  the  sands  were  so 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  199 

nearly  run  out ;  the  hospitable  care  for  the  reception  of 
the  friends  who  came  to  Marshfield  ;  that  affectionate  and 
solemn  leave  separately  taken,  name  by  name,  of  wife,  and 
children,  and  kindred,  and  friends,  and  family,  down  to 
the  humblest  members  of  the  household  ;  the  designation 
of  the  coming  day,  then  near  at  hand,  when  'all  that  was 
mortal  of  Daniel  Webster  would  cease  to  exist !'  the  dimly 
recollected  strains  of  the  funeral  poetry  of  Gray,  last  faint 
flash  of  the  soaring  intellect ;  the  feebly  murmured  words 
of  the  Holy  Writ  repeated  from  the  lips  of  the  good  phy 
sician,  who,  when  all  the  resources  of  human  art  had  been 
exhausted,  had  a  drop  of  spiritual  balm  for  the  parting 
soul ;  the  clasped  hands  ;  the  dying  prayers  :  oh  !  my  fel 
low-citizens,  this  is  a  consummation  over  which  tears  of 
pious  sympathy  will  be  shed  ages  after  the  glories  of  the 
forum  and  the  Senate  are  forgotten. 

"  '  His  sufferings  ended  with  the  night, 

Yet  lived  he  at  its  close  ; 
And  wore  the  long,  long  night  away 

In  statue-like  repose. 
Yet  ere  the  sun  in  all  its  state 

Illumed  the  eastern  skies, 
He  passed  through  glory's  morning  gate, 

And  walked  in  Paradise  !'  " 


PRIVATE     LIFE     OF     DANIEL     WEBSTER.         201 


EULOGY  IN  NEW  YORK. 

THE  following  brief  eulogy  was  delivered  by  Hiram 
Ketchum,  Esq.,  in  New  York,  and  is  here  published  for 
the  same  reasons  that  were  offered  in  regard  to  Mr.  E  ver- 
ett's.  It  was  addressed  to  the  bar  of  the  city : 

"  The  offices  of  this  day  belong  less  to  grief  and  sorrow 
than  congratulation  and  joy.  It  is  true  that  our  illustri 
ous  countryman,  Daniel  Webster,  is  no  longer  numbered 
among  the  living ;  but  it  is  a  subject  of  congratulation 
that  he  lived  beyond  the  ordinary  period  allotted  to  human 
life,  and  that  he  was  permitted  to  die  as  he  had  lived,  for 
thirty  years  in  the  service  of  his  country  ;  and  at  his  own 
home,  in  his  own  bed,  surrounded  by  his  domestic  family 
and  friends.  The  great  luminary  of  the  bar,  the  Senate, 
and  the  Council  Chamber  is  set  forever,  but  it  is  a  subject 
of  rejoicing  that  it  is  set  in  almost  supernatural  splendor, 
obscured  by  no  cloud  ;  not  a  ray  darkened. 

"  I  have  often  heard  Mr.  Webster  express  a  great  dread, 
I  may  .-  ay  horrible  dread,  of  a  failure  of  intellect.  He 
did  no  live  long  enough  to  experience  such  failure.  I 
rejoice  that  he  lived  long  enough  to  collect,  and  supervise, 
and  publish  to  the  world  his  own  works.  Many  of  our 
distinguished  countrymen  live  only  in  tradition;  but  Dan 
iel  Webster  has  made  up  the  record  for  himself ;  a  record 
which  discloses,  clear  as  light,  his  political,  moral,  and  re- 

12 


202  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

ligious  principles  —  a  record  containing  'no  word  which, 
dying,  he  might  wish  to  blot,'  or  any  friend  of  his  desire 
to  efface.  More  than  any  living  man,  he  has  instructed 
the  whole  generation  of  American  citizens  in  their  politi 
cal  duties,  and  taught  the  young  men  of  the  country  how 
to  think  clearly,  reason  fairly,  and  clothe  thought  in  the 
most  simple  and  beautiful  English.  He  has  reared  his 
own  monument.  *  There  it  stands,  and  there  it  will  stand 
forever  !'  The  rock  which  was  first  pressed  by  the  feet 
of  the  Pilgrims  first  landing  on  the  shores  of  this  West 
ern.  Continent  is  destined  long  to  be  remembered  ;  but  not 
longer  than  the  oration  commemorating  that  event,  de 
livered  two  hundred  years  after  it  occurred,  by  Daniel 
Webster. 

"  The  monument  which  indicates  the  spot  where  the 
first  great  battle  of  the  American  Revolution  was  fought 
will  stand  as  long  as  monumental  granite  can  stand  ;  but 
long  after  it  is  obliterated  and  scattered,  the  oration  deliv 
ered  on  laying  its  corner-stone,  and  the  other  oration,  pro 
nounced  nineteen  years  after,  on  its  completion,  will  live 
to  tell  that  such  a  monument  was.  The  names  of  John 
Adams  and  Thomas  Jefferson  will  be  known  to  a  distant 
futurity ;  but  I  believe  that  among  the  last  records  which 
will  tell  of  their  names  will  be  the  eulogy,  of  wh  ^h  they 
were  the  theme,  pronounced  by  Daniel  Webster.  We  all 
hope,  and  some  of  us  believe,  that  the  Constitution  and 
Union  of  our  country  will  be  perpetual ;  but  we  know  that 
the  speeches  and  orations  in  defense  and  commendation 
of  that  Constitution  and  Union  delivered  by  Daniel  Web 
ster  will  live  as  long  as  the  English  language  is  spoken 


DANIEL     WEBSTER.  203 

among  men.  I  might  refer  to  the  Capitol  of  the  country, 
to  every  important  institution,  and  every  great  name  in 
our  land  among  the  living  and  the  dead,  for  there  is  not 
one  of  them  that  has  not  been  embalmed  in  his  eloquence 
"  In  the  few  remaining  remarks  which  I  have  to  make,'' 
continued  Mr.  Ketchum,  "  allow  me,  sir,  to  speak  of  some 
of  the  personal  characteristics  of  Mr.  Webster  as  they  have 
fallen  under  my  own  observation.  I  have  long  been  ac 
quainted  with  him.  From  all  I  know,  have  seen  and 
heard,  I  am  here  to-day  to  bear  testimony  that  Daniel 
Webster,  as  a  public  man,  possessed  the  highest  integrity. 
He  always  seemed  to  me  to  act  under  the  present  convic 
tion  that  whatever  he  did  would  be  known  not  only  to  his 
contemporaries,  but  to  posterity.  He  was  '  clear  in  office.' 
He  regarded  political  power  as  power  in  trust ;  and  though 
always  willing  and  desirous  to  oblige  his  friends,  yet  he 
would  never,  directly  or  indirectly,  violate  that  trust.  I 
have  known  him  in  private  and  domestic  life.  During 
the  last  twenty-five  years  I  have  received  many  letters 
from  him ;  some  of  which  I  yet  retain,  and  some  have  been 
destroyed  at  his  request.  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  meet 
ing  him  often  in  private  circles  and  at  the  festive  board, 
where  some  of  our  sessions  were  not  short ;  but  neither  in 
his  letters  nor  his  conversation  have  I  ever  known  him  to 
express  an  impure  thought,  an  immoral  sentiment,  or  use 
profane  language.  Neither  in  writing  nor  in  conversation 
have  I  ever  known  him  to  assaft  any  man.  No  man,  in 
my  hearing,  was  ever  slandered  or  spoken  ill  of  by  Daniel 
Webster.  Never  in  my  life  have  I  known  a  man  whose 
conversation  was  uniformly  so  unexceptionable  in  tone  and 


204  PRIVATE     LIFE     OF 

edifying  in  character.  No  man  ever  had  more  tenderness 
of  feeling  than  Daniel  Webster.  He  had  his  enemies  as 
malignant  as  any  man ;  but  there  was  not  one  of  them 
who,  if  he  came  to  him  in  distress,  would  not  obtain  all 
the  relief  in  his  power  to  bestow.  To  say  that  he  had  no 
weaknesses  and  failings  would  be  to  say  that  he  was  not 
human.  Those  failings  have  been  published  to  the  world, 
and  his  friends  would  have  no  reason  to  complain  of  that 
if  they  had  not  been  exaggerated.  It  is  due  to  truth  and 
sound  morality  to  say,  in  this  place,  that  no  public  services, 
no  eminent  talent,  can  or  should  sanctify  errors.  It  was 
one  of  Mr.  Webster's  characteristics  that  he  abhorred  all 
affectation.  That  affectation,  often  seen  in  young  men, 
of  speaking  in  public  upon  the  impulse  of  the  moment, 
without  previous  thought  and  preparation,  of  all  others  he 
most  despised.  He  never  spoke  without  previous  thought 
and  laborious  preparation.  As  was  truly  said  by  my  vener 
able  friend  who  just  sat  down  (Mr.  Staples),  he  was  indus 
trious  to  the  end.  When,  on  leaving  college,  he  assumed 
the  place  of  teacher  in  an  academy,  in  an  interior  town  of 
New  England,  the  most  intelligent  predicted  his  future 
eminence.  After  his  first  speech  in  court,  in  his  native 
state,  a  learned  judge  remarked,  '  I  have  just  heard  a 
speech  from  a  young  man  who  will  hereafter  become  the 
first  man  in  the  country.'  The  predictions  that  were  made 
of  Daniel  Webster's  career  were  not  merely  that  he  would 
be  a  great  man,  but  the  Jlrst  man. 

"  I  have  often  thought  that  if  other  men  could  have 
been  as  diligent  and  assiduous  as  Mr.  Webster,  they  might 
have  equaled  him  in  achievement.  When  he  addressed 


DANIEL    WEBSTER.  205 

the  court,  the  bar,  the  Senate,  or  the  people,  he  ever  thought 
he  had  no  right  to  speak  without  previous  preparation. 
He  came  before  the  body  to  which  he  was  to  speak  with 
his  thoughts  arrayed  in  their  best  dress.  He  thought  this 
was  due  to  men  who  would  stand  and  hear  him,  and  the 
result  was  that  every  thing  he  said  was  always  worthy  of 
being  read  ;  and  no  public  man  in  our  country  has  ever 
been  so  much  read. 

"  It  may  be  conceded  (whether  it  was  a  virtue  or  a 
weakness)  that  Daniel  Webster  was  ambitious.  He  was. 
He  desired  to  attain  high  position,  and  to  surpass  every 
man  who  had  occupied  the  same  before  him.  He  spared 
no  labor  or  assiduity  to  accomplish  this  end.  "Whether  he 
has  succeeded  or  not,  posterity  must  say.  I  will  add,  that 
it  is  true  that  he  desired  the  highest  political  position  in 
the  country  ;  that  he  thought  he  had  fairly  earned  a  claim 
to  that  position.  And  I  solemnly  believe  that  because  that 
claim  was  denied,  his  days  were  shortened.  I  came  here, 
sir,  to  speak  of  facts  as  they  are  ;  neither  to  censure  or  to 
applaud  any  man  or  set  of  men ;  whether  what  has  been 
done  has  been  well  done,  or  what  has  been  omitted  has 
been  well  omitted,  the  public  must  decide.  May  I  be  per 
mitted  to  add  that,  though  I  am  no  man's  worshiper,  I 
have  deeply  sympathized  in  thought,  in  word,  and  in  act 
with  that  desire  of  Mr.  Webster  ?  I  have  continued  this 
sympathy  with  that  desire  to  the  last  moment  of  his  life. 
If  there  be  honor  in  this,  let  it  attach  to  me  and  mine ; 
if  disgrace,  let  it  be  visited  upon  me  and  my  children." 

THE     END. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


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1941 


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